The Duty of an Elder Son
by Reapergal08
Summary: "Lovino Vargas knew a lot about duty." His Grandfather's swollen empire puts all of his family in danger, the other gangs are massing, the police are on their tails and Lovino is given a bodyguard in one Antonio Carriedo. 1920s Mafia AU fic. Human Names. All characters play vital roles. Some pairings later on. M for lang/violence throughout.
1. A Back Alley Skirmish

_*EDIT: After NONAMESWEREAVAILABLE's review (Thank you very much btw :3) I have decided to edit a little bit of the story. Instead of modern day it is now set in the 1920s. For the most part the chapter is the same but it needed a little editing for me to make it work :L Sorry!  
>Chapter 2 is being written now :)*<em>

**Story number three! I'm on a roll ;D Thank you so much to all the people who favourited and commented on my other stories in the past week or so :D So grateful! And my stats are good too! There are actually people reading my rubbish? ;_; I am so honoured :D Thanks guys!**  
><strong>I've noticed I upload these things on Tuesdays a lot, maybe this shall be my upload day in the future?<strong>

**Right so this takes place in America I think, no town specifically because I live in England so any word fails are totally my fault and I apologise :') Just leave me a review or something telling me and I'll try not to do it again! **  
><strong>So yeah, human characters based around the idea of the mafia :') Not sure what goes on in my head sometimes. This story just wouldn't leave me alone so here you go :)<br>Romano/Lovino is a little OC in here but there is a reason to be revealed later on- YES THIS IS NOT A ONE SHOT :)  
>Enjoy ~<strong>

**oOo**

"Three vanilla ice creams please," the man asked over the counter. His face tired but happy as two small children bounced around his feet playing chase between his legs. They squealed in simple delight.

The young man who served him scowled a little, his pale eyes narrowed at the antics but made no comment as he hurried to make his order. Lovino Vargas liked working in the little ice cream parlour on the main high street of the city; for one it paid well and two it was an easy job. Heck, he even liked to talk to some of the regular customers, but he really disliked noisy kids. He handed over the desserts with an attempt at a smile. The boss always reminded him to smile, it was good for the shop apparently. The man took his ice creams, handed over the money and headed outside onto the busy street. It was a sunny day and a warm breeze from the door lifted the corners of the curtains that decorated the shops windows.

After the man had left the only people still in the shop had already been served. Their chatter filled the small, light room like birdsong. Lovino cleaned the counter top briefly before heading back to his original spot by the till and the newspaper he had been reading, still lying open on the story he had momentarily left. On the page was an article about the recent crime wave to hit the city, the reporter seemed to be questioning if the events were linked. All the crimes were committed in a similar manner; a locked room with no sign of forced entry and all the valuables missing. No guards had been able to fight back against the dark figure that overpowered them. The journalist had not mentioned a specific group but to Lovino it seemed that any idiot would be able to see what they were getting at. Then there was of course the usual stuff about the prohibition and those that seemed to go against the rules at every opportunity, illegal alcohol was being sold across the city. The frustrated police couldn't work out it's source.

These things were not the works of armatures but professionals. Their so called safe city was the home of organised crime. He tried to hold back a snort of irritated laughter: they had no idea-

"Hey Lovi!" A cheerful American voice called, a hand slapped his back painfully. "What'ya doing?"

He turned to scowl at the other man before him. A couple of years younger than himself, Alfred Jones was about his height with sandy hair and glasses, behind which were large blue eyes as if he was permanently in awe. He wore the same uniform as Lovino, a stripped shirt and dark trousers with a small hat on top. The flick of hair at the front of the younger man's head stuck up with an certain defiance out of his head like an antenna. He was licking an ice cream greedily as he looked expectantly at him, awaiting a reply.

"I'm reading the newspaper Alfred." He grumbled turning back to the page, trying but failing to find his place. How annoying. "And I've told you not to call me that-"

The paper was snatched out from under his hands quickly, too fast for him to even lunge for it. Alfred looked over the page thoughtfully but Lovino was doubtful any thought actually went on in his thick skull. His ice cream licking was starting to push a nerve.

"Are you really meant to be eating that?" He said pointedly, the annoyance edging into his voice. "We're working."

The other man shrugged.

"I'm on my break," he argued, placing down the paper on the counter. Lovino picked it up as if he would snatch it away again. "Besides it's mine to eat when I want."

Of course it was. Everything that Lovino saw belonged to the idiot in front of him. His mother had died a year or two ago leaving everything to her eldest son, including the small ice cream shop on the high street. The only reason he was not building an empire of ice cream stores was mainly because he was, quite simply, a moron. The guy was about as responsible as a wet hand rag. He wouldn't know duty if it slapped him in the face, which was why Lovino disliked him so much.

For now Alfred's father and his brother's dad were in charge of the shop, meaning if he wanted any of the earnings he would have to work for them. He occasionally shuffled down the stairs from their home above and did a few hours leaving Lovino with most of the work. It was a good thing he didn't mind: much.

"There's a phone call for you in the back room by the way," Alfred said continuing with his ice cream licking. He was always cheerful and nice even though Lovino was sharp to him. "If you want to take it I'd be quick before Francis comes downstairs."

A strange sinking feeling grasped his stomach for a moment and he clenched his hands. He never got calls at work.

Calls meant something had happened.

He hurried into the staff room and fumbled with the reciever that Alfred had left off the hook, his hands suddenly clumsy. As soon as he pushed it to his ear he spoke.

"Hello?" He was surprised when Feliciano's voice replied.

"Fratello?" His younger brother always converted back to their native tongue when he wanted the conversation to be private. "Are you okay?"

"Si, I'm fine. What's wrong?" He demanded feeling bemused, he whispered down the phone in case Francis, his boss, was close.

"I got scared when you took so long." A tittering laugh and then a moment of silence. "Lovino when will you be home?"

"I'm at work now." He knew Feliciano was aware of this having rang his work this but he reminded him anyway. There appeared to be no immediate catastrophe in any case, his brother wouldn't be able to keep quiet if there was something really wrong. "I'll head back when my shift finishes at six."

"Oh..." Feliciano seemed to waver a little. Something might not be wrong but something had happened. Lovino scowled, if that German kid had said anything else to upset his little brother he would-

"Will you let the driver give you a lift back today?"

He flinched instinctively as if he had been physically slapped by the question.

"No I won't." His answer came out harsher than he had intended, he didn't mean for his voice to be so sharp but he couldn't help it. "You know how I feel about this Feli, I'll get the bus home. Besides I'm locking up tonight, everyone else is leaving early to go to some sort of meal."

There was silence.

"What is it?" He asked warily. Feliciano had such a tendency to over react sometimes; if the call had been from his Grandfather then he would have panicked. As it was he felt relatively calm.

"Grandpa is mad over something Lovi," his brother whimpered. "I think one of his jobs went wrong. Somebody is mad. I'm scared."

"Don't be, nobody knows we exist remember?" He tried to keep the scorn out of his voice. "I'll be fine Feli, please don't worry-"

A cough sounded behind him and he jumped. He turned to see his boss staring at him with his blue eyes narrowed. He wore a similar outfit to his own only without the hat, probably to save his perfect blond hair from being ruined.

"I 'ope I'm not disturbing you, Meister Vargas." Francis said loudly in a heavily accented voice, shaking his head. "I'm afraid zere is work to do!"

"I have to go Feli," he muttered, turning back to English on the phone. He ignored his brothers protests threw down the reciever. Francis glared at him with one eyebrow raised.

"What do I pay you for Meister Vargas?"

"To work, Sir." He did not mention how Alfred was paid for the work he did or how he barely ever got a break. The Frenchman's stare was murder.

"Zat is right: work." He pointed a long finger back in the direction of the shop. "Zere are customers to be served; off you go please."

Lovino hurried to complete his orders, fuming silently as he did them. In the past he would have turned around and yelled profanities until his face turned blue. These days he tried to keep his cool for as long as possible; it was not fitting for an older brother to have such a poor vocabulary. In a way he was thankful that Francis tested his patience as much as he did because it at least showed he had changed. Maybe, he thought, maybe now Grandpa will start to treat him like an adult now he had started to act like one instead of a whiny kid.

"Anything important?" Alfred asked, ice cream finished, as he re entered the room.

"Nothing."

oOo

The days work was over and the last customers left the shop happy. It was late in the afternoon and the sun had started to set. The nights were drawing in again, Lovino did not look forward to the winter when it went dark early and he had to travel there and back from work. For now the night was clear and the sky tinged with a deep pink, he was trying to remember the rhyme about the weather he had learnt when Francis entered the main dining area dressed in his finest white suit.

"So we are off Lovino." He threw him the keys which he caught easily. "Please lock everything securely and have a safe journey home."

"Thank you sir, I'll try." He was polite as possible to Francis. The guy might have been a bad boss but he was a good man and not used to bossing people around. The power went to his head sometimes. He had attempted to turn the tiny ice cream shop into a bistro when he first arrived, it hadn't gone down well with the customers though and it had been reverted back to it's simple ways within a matter of days. Just how Lovino liked it.

Alfred and his younger brother Matt entered the room also dressed up in suits. They were off to meet Al's dad at a swanky restaurant for a meal, something about a promotion. As far as he had heard from the boy's big mouth, his dad was some sort of paper pusher at the police department.

"Car's here papa." Matthew said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. His dad nodded and they headed out, Alfred waving to Lovino as he went. He watched them leave for a second as stayed stood still until he heard their taxi head away. Then he let out a deep breath and began the chore of locking up the building.

He had spent the last few hours worried about Feliciano and his silly phone call. Whatever could have upset him so much that he'd call? What argument had Grandpa had now? Breathing hard through his nose, Lovino wondered what it would be like to have a normal life for once. To be like Alfred's family and be able to go to meals without it ending in full on warfare. It had been a long time since he and his Grandfather had even spoke let alone eaten together, he was always too busy with the family business. The business that he was one day supposed to run himself.

He wanted nothing to do with it; he had realised this a long time ago but a sense of duty to his brother and extended household made it impossible to turn away. His Grandfather had given him a few years to be ready, to live the life he would never be able to return to again, and then he would take his place. His time was almost up. Too soon would he turn 21 and his life as he knew it would be over.

The locking up complete, apart from the back door he had to leave from, he grabbed his backpack and headed out. The back door of the ice cream shop lead out onto a dingy alley full of steam from the nearby restaurant's kitchen and the general waste of all the other shops. It was poorly lit but the night was pretty bright still and he was able to lock the door easily. With his back to the alley he locked the door and was just sliding the key into his pocket when he heard something move behind him.

And then the cold tip of a gun was placed on the nape of his neck.

The cool kiss of the metal sent a shiver down his spine, terror filled his every nerve. He wanted to run, shout for help but he knew it would do no good. He froze instead. How had he been found? What the hell was going on? Shit, shit-

"No sudden movement, Vargas," A heavy East European accent reached his ears. Male. "Drop the bag and turn around very slowly."

Lovino did as he was asked, holding up his hands in surrender as he turned to face the people behind him. There were two men, they looked older than him by a few years and behind their eyes was something cold and inhuman. The taller man had blond hair which hung over his glasses, the other was a brunette. He was the one with the gun.

"Your Grandfather has managed to piss off some very nasty people, Vargas." The gun was aimed at his forehead. Was this about the argument Feli had mentioned? Fuck, he hadn't thought he was serious. "I'm surprised you don't have a bodyguard around you. And don't lie, we know there's no one here."

That had been just what he was going to do. He licked his lips nervously."What do you want?"

"To simply send a message." He was shocked when the gun was removed, so shocked in fact that he didn't even register the fist flying towards his face before it hit him in the mouth, it split his lip and sent him flying. His head hit the door and he stumbled around dazed. Hands grabbed him and pushed him to the floor. The gravel hurt but not as much as the swift kicks that sent pain all through his body, they we hitting him everywhere; his front, his back, his head. He cried out as a particularly painful blow landed on his arm which he had used to try to protect himself.

The two men suddenly shouted out in surprise and fear and the assault stopped. Lovino lay on the cold hard concrete, aware through the pain of the sound of fighting. He managed to look up though the haze of pain in time to see a figure chasing the other two away, he followed them halfway down the alley before running back to him. Lovino cowered away but the sudden movement made everything hurt and he yelled in pain, his vision turning white around the edges and all fuzzy. When he was next fully aware he had his back against the wall and two startled green eyes were staring down at him with concern.

"Ah, you had me scared there, amigo." The man smiled. "Are you okay?"

**LOL Romano sells ice cream :')**

**Okay so there is more to this, quite a bit more. I wanted to do some stuff with Antonio and Lovino for a while and obviously some other stuff. MAFIA STUFFS GUYS! Thing is I'm not sure whether it'll be worth writing: I don't want to waste my time if no one likes it :)**  
><strong>What I mean to say is please review :D Sometimes it just helps me get into the feeling of writing. It is true that your review love makes me work harder :3 They mean so much to me I can't say -therearenowordsss-They tell me if I'm mucking up or doing good :) And that is very important to me. I like writing to make people happy.<strong>  
><strong>SO THERE IS MORE! I'm not mean to leave it on a cliffhanger! Review=more stuff! And that's a promise :D<strong>  
><strong>I have some cool stuff with Grandpa Rome later (: just to tempt you...<strong>

**Until next time my dears :3**

**Hasta la pasta~**


	2. The Final Link

**Hey guys :) I'm uploading a day early because I have an essay thing due in Friday and I needed this out of the way so I don't feel guilty at leaving you hanging with Spain/Antonio's introduction from chapter one. So yeah a little interaction between the two boys.  
>Not much Spamano yet, or swearing!<br>IT'S COMING! I wouldn't change Romano for the world. His swear fits make me chuckle :L For the first few chapters he is holding in the fury (explained next chapter a little) but it'll slowly return over the course of the story, Spain is there after all. Who else will he swear at?**  
><strong>Thank you to all the people who favourited and alerted the story last time, much appreciated. PLEASE REVIEW THOUGH :D<strong>  
><strong>Reviews make me happy~<strong>

**Hetalia- Not mine blah blah :') I wish it was ;_;**  
><strong>Note- This is un beta-ed because I feel mean forcing my poor beta to read everything I write when I know that this is okay apart from probably a bit of grammar. She's only a friend really and I want her to experiance a few chapters in the normal way :') Plus I have to get used to working without her especially with the xmas holidays coming up and no one to bug xD<strong>

**ENJOY~**

oOo

The green eyed man helped him hobble back inside the shop. It was pitch black inside, Lovino having turned off all the lights before he left; yet the man made sure he was sat down at one of the tables before stumbling away to find a light switch. Feeling disorientated and in pain Lovino blinked heavily when the sudden illumination filled the small room.

"Found it!" The Spanish man supplied unnecessarily as he turned back to face him. His expression fell. "Jeez, they've really made a mess of you."

Self consciously, Lovino raised the hand he was not clutching to his chest to his face. It came away the wet and sticky red of blood. The vivid scarlet shone lethally on his shaking finger tips. There was no part of him that didn't hurt from the attack. He was unable to even begin to process what his attackers had meant by his Grandfather angering someone or why they had even been there. He was meant to be safe. How on earth had this happened?

The Spanish man glided softly to his side. Lovino flinched away instinctively, paranoia setting into his fuzzy mind. He did not know this man, for all he knew he was another member of the gang sent to kill him instead of the men with the gun. Death wrapped up in a sincere grin. His sudden movement and impaired balance nearly sent him crashing to the floor but the man's reactions were quick and he caught him before he hit the tiles.

"Whoa, wait a second," he backed up with his palms in the air as Lovino thrashed out of his grip, sliding along to the next chair across. A wide smile adorned his face and playful innocence danced in his eyes but behind this he seemed a little hurt that he had recoiled in horror. "I don't mean you any harm. I promise. Where are my manners- my name is Antonio Carriedo, what's yours?"

Unable to tell whether or not his expression was genuine he had no option but to answer.

"Lovino," he murmured. He kept his eyes narrowed. His body screamed in protest at the position he had forced himself into, it was putting pressure on his injured arm. Luckily it was not broken but it was definitely sprained and shook under his weight.

"Ah Italian right?" Antonio said brightly, lowering his hands a little. The grin on his face was slightly overwhelming. "I have family over there, nice place. Beautiful food. Haven't seen them much, not since I moved here. They live in Naples where-?"

"I've never been." He lied bluntly but his guard lowered a little. The way the man spoke reminded him of his brother, he ran away with a topic easily. Feliciano did the same when he was nervous.

"That's a shame," Antonio tutted loudly, shaking his head. Lovino wasn't sure what to say to that;it was a lie that he had never been, he just couldn't remember it very well. He had only been very young when he had lived there and his memories of it were not clear.

Too occupied musing, he didn't answer and the man's expression grew worried.

"Mi amigo," his voice was soft, persuasive. "We need to look at your head, you're bleeding quite a lot."

Antonio obviously assumed that his silence was because of the kick to the head. Lovino coloured in embarrassment and nodded, the man smiled indulgently and hurried off to the back kitchen. He returned faster than he expected holding the first aid kit they kept behind the counter and a cloth. Lovino had expected to care for himself so he was very surprised when Antonio knelt down in front of him and started mopping his head with the damp towel.

Lovino seized up at the contact but he soon relaxed, the cold towel mopping at his forehead easing the pain a little. Antonio's face was screwed up in concentration, his green eyes thoughtful under his mop of dark hair. He could have only been a few years older than him, his face was still young and smooth and quite handsome. He wore simple brown suit bottoms with a white shirt but no tie or hat. Lovino had learnt to read the type of people that visited the shop by their clothes; Antonio's suggested he was pretty poor and hard done by. The quality of the clothes was good but upon closer inspection the were quite worn from over use.

Antonio must have felt the yellow eyes surveying him because he suddenly turned his vision to his face rather than his injury. Lovino felt his mouth dry up. The Spanish man didn't seem to mind the staring, he smiled kindly.

"You need ice, do you have any?"

"This is an ice cream store." Lovino muttered still feeling awkward. "Of course we have ice. Take as much as you like from the machine."

It was Antonio's turn to look sheepish as he went to fetch the ice. He carried on talking to Lovino even as he walked.

"What is this city coming to, eh?" He asked with a sigh. "A man can't even leave his work now without getting mugged for every penny he's just spent all day earning, it's enough to make you weep."

Knowing full well that the two men had not intended to mug him meant that he could only mumble an incoherent reply. They had been there to 'send a message', in his language that meant death or close to. He shivered involuntarily thinking about what might have happened if Antonio had not turned up. Again he worried; what did this mean? Who had his Grandfather angered?

"It's a damn shame hard working people get the stick from all these people who can't be bothered to do a days work in their lives." Antonio was muttering angrily to himself now. His usually cheery face seemed annoyed. "And don't get me started on those gangs."

Lovino couldn't help but shoot his head up. The Spanish man didn't notice as he was too busy readying the ice in a new clean towel, making a mess as he did so, ice skittering onto the floor. Lovino would get yelled at by Francis for that one.

"Good job I was there really." Antonio rounded the counter and placed the icepack firmly but gently on his head, holding it in place with a grin."How are you getting home?"

"I get the bus." He would have missed it now though, a quick glance at the clock informed him that the last bus had left about ten minutes ago. He was stuck on the other side of town, beaten black and blue with an all to cheery young man messing up his workplace. Great.

"Anywhere we can walk to?" Antonio looked worried. "I don't mind walking you back to your home. I don't want you getting hurt again."

Lovino blinked in surprise. The kindness of a stranger was something he was not used to and certainly did not expect.

"It's too far at this time of night." He said with a shake of his head. His stomach turned at the only option he had left. "I'll have to call someone to pick me up."

"A cab?"

"No," he gritted his teeth. "My family."

He grimaced, not in irritation at Antonio but the fact he would have to call in his family. He never wanted to bring his home life to work: period. The two worlds should never mix. At work he was allowed to be normal, he got paid, he had a little bit of fun. At home; well home was home.

Lovino Vargas knew a lot about duty. It had been his water, food and air for the past 21 years. He knew that his only obligation in life was to his family and the business. What he didn't have to do was like it.

All he had ever wanted was to live a life free from the weight of his Grandfather's empire. His job in the ice cream shop eased the press of his future on his shoulders but now he had been attacked Lovino felt a literal shift; the pressure building again. He was going to have to bring the two worlds together with a crash, something he hadn't want to do just yet. And it would all happen with a single phone call.

Antonio was of course oblivious to Lovino's inner turmoil. He looked impressed at the mention of a car. It was highly unlikely for people to have cars, only the rich could afford to keep them.

"Maybe you should call them now-" he said when suddenly the said phone in the back room began to ring. They shared a shocked glance before Antonio handed Lovino the icepack and hurried to answer it. He already had a horrible feeling of who was calling but he leant forward anyway to try to hear better.

"Hello?"Antonio said politely but the confusion was evident in his voice. "Erm no he's right here... well there was a fight and... I see, yes I'll tell him... Goodby-"

He cut short and Lovino could see from his vantage point the shocked expression on his face, the other person had obviously rudely put down the phone. Antonio stared at the receiver for a few moments before putting it down and returning.

"I'm not sure who that was but they asked for you." He said. "Someone's apparently on their way to fetch you now, how odd of them to call you."

"What did they sound like?"

"Deep voice, male, Italian," Lovino's heart almost his his stomach. His Grandfather. Something must have shown on his face because Antonio suddenly looked worried.

"Hey, you okay?" He knelt in front of him his green eyes searching his face with worry. "Do you need me to get you a drink or-"

"I feel sick."

The wound on his head throbbed and his he felt light headed. His Grandfather's phonecall was the final straw. The realisation about what had happened suddenly hit him like a train, as if he had been ignoring the obvious before. A rival gang had attacked him; they would have left him for dead. They knew where he was, they knew _who_ he was. He was no longer safe or secure. Lovino was truly one of the family now, there was no ignoring his duty anymore. The knot in his stomach ballooned and he retched. A well timed bucket appeared in front of him and the threw up into it.

After he had done he was aware of Antonio rubbing his back gently to avoid catching his bruises. Shame built up once more, the guy had saved his life and now he had to see him chuck up in panic into a mop bucket. How pathetic.

"Do you feel better now?" Antonio's voice asked cautiously, he was still rubbing his back in soothing motions. In any other situation Lovino would have demanded that he stop but the soothing motion was comforting. The man behind him was his final link to the real world. As soon as he was carted away to home his new life would have to begin. He didn't want it to; surely he couldn't let it go so easily. All he had fought for was this little ice cream shop and the normal life that went with it. Lovino could not allow himself to let it go.

"Yes, thank you." He croaked feeling he should answer before the other man got worried. "Sorry."

"No it's fine," Antonio brushed him off lightly, he could almost feel the grin back in his voice. "It's to be expected I'm afraid. It's what a knock to the head can do to you. You should rest up at home."

His kind words almost brought a tear to his eye; almost.

There was a short knock at the door that made them both look up. The windows had been shuttered but the door was merely on a catch. It was glass and outside the dark shape of an idling car waited behind the figure of a tall man. Lovino's palms were sweaty as Antonio got up and flicked the latch to let the man in. He was at least six foot and had sleepy looking eyes under shoulder length hair. It looked as if he had slept on it without brushing it. However his sheer height was imposing enough to the Spanish man who took a step or two back as he went over to Lovino.

"Come along Master Vargas," his voice was soft and distant but Lovino still flinched at the formal address. He squirmed under the man's critical eye. "Mr Vargas is very upset. You need to come home now; do you need help to get into the car?"

"No Heracles, I'm fine." He tried to keep his voice even and failed. To his horror the driver bowed low and stood back to let him pass. Lovino wished the world would swallow him whole as Antonio's eyes widened at the interaction. Slowly and with as much dignity as he could manage he pulled himself off the chair with his good hand and stood shakily. His bruises complained at the movement but he ignored them as he moved forward. At it he paused to look at the Spaniard who had helped him, the cheerful, handsome Spaniard who had showed him kindness that he felt he did not deserve.

"Thank you." He said and he meant it.

"No problem." Antonio smiled widely despite Heracles' hulking form hovering at Lovino's shoulder. He held out his hand for him to shake. "Maybe we'll see each other again sometime?"

Lovino stared at the hand in front of him for a second before reaching out his own to grasp it. Antonio's hand was warm like a summers day and they held onto each other a little longer than he had originally meant to. When he let go his hand felt cold and empty. His last link to the normal world had gone and his hand seemed to more the loss.

"Yes, maybe." He muttered then turned abruptly out of the door and to the car. The driver opened the door for him and he sat but it seemed to take Heracles an agonisingly long time to get into the drivers seat himself. The windows were slightly tinted but even then Lovino refused to look out at the shop and Antonio. It was only as the car started and left the pavement did he glance back to see his saviour waving sadly at the doorway of the shop and he felt a pang of guilt, not because he had forgot to lock up the shop but because he had left Antonio alone and oblivious to what had just happened.

Maybe it was the best he didn't know he had just saved the life of the heir to the Vargas family criminal legacy.

oOo

**The driver is Greece if you didn't realise :)**

**So yeah another chapter done. Reviews are really needed for this guys. I value your opinion of where this is going and stuff :)**  
><strong>Next chapter sees a few more well known faces appear and we get to finally meet the scary head of family ;D<br>REVIEW PLEZ :3 Loves!**

**Until next week!**

**Hasta la pasta~**


	3. The Bubble Bursts

**Arghh so many story alerts for this one :D Thank you so much guys it means a lot :) Would like some more reviews though hint hint ;)**  
><strong>I'm churning out these chapters, got a feeling I'm going to run out of steam over Christmas though : I'll try to at least finish chapter four before then for you to read :3 I finished this one early and am taking advantage of the fast unlimited internet in my Hall at University by uploading it before I go home tomorrow :') **

**So last chapter we saw Lovino/Romano dreading returning home: Here is why.**  
><strong>I may have made Grandpa Rome a little dark here? Maybe. He gets worse anyway as the story goes on :L<strong>  
><strong>Oh and Viktor is Germania! Couldn't find a name for him online so I just looked up some German names and I liked that one :) Sorry if you guys hate it! It stays though so suck it up ;D<strong>

**Hetalia isn't mine yada yada :)**  
><strong>Enjoyyy~<strong>

oOo

Lovino stared at the wooden door before him, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. His good hand hung in the air ready to knock but he made no move to do so. His expression was one of indecision, his lips pressed together in trepidation and his eyes dark with dread. His hand shook.

He knew he could not avoid this meeting with his Grandfather. As soon as he had arrived at the apartment, Heracles had seen to his wounds and deposited him at the door like a package. The corridor was filled with the scent of cigars; a bad sign. Lovino knew his Grandfather only smoked his cigars where he was irritated and needed calming down. The smell made his head feel fuzzy and his thoughts even more disorientated. All he wanted was to go to his room and never come out again but he knew that would not be allowed to happen. All this about him voluntarily visiting his Grandfather; it was mere nicety. He knew from experience that if he did not go willingly he would be brought to see him by force.

His hand seemed to make the decision for him and knocked on the wood. The dull sound had a certain finality about it like the sound of the last nail being hammered into a coffin.

The door opened silently, seemingly on it's own. Lovino stepped in hesitantly, hovering in the doorway a moment before he entered the room. The room had not changed in all the years they had lived in the apartment. The walls were the same olive green, the floor a familiar polished dark wood. It was a well lit room where an individual had nowhere to hide.

The door closed lightly behind him and he turned to see Viktor, his Grandpa's bodyguard, in his usual position by the door. The man had a complexion of a vampire; pale skin and hair and shocking blue eyes. His hands were folded in front of him over the front of his black suit. His hair had been left to grow long, for any man it was odd but for one of his age it was even stranger; he kept it off his face with a simple tie back. Viktor's face was always impassive but as Lovino glanced at him he was sure he saw something in the man's expression, anger perhaps? Annoyance? He wasn't sure and he certainly didn't have the time to find out.

He turned to face the room's only other occupant.

His Grandfather's desk was a rich wood, ornately carved with fruits. As a child he could remember tracing the images of the grapes and tomatoes with wonder at how the fruits had magically transformed into the beautiful wooden table. The wall behind the desk held two brass sconce that threw down a dramatic light on the individual sat at the desk.

Lovino had always been told that compared to his brother he was the one who looked more like his Grandfather, they had the same tan complexion and golden yellow eyes, the same shade of chocolate hair. However his hair was straighter than the older man's as his Grandfather had a halo of dark curls that surrounded his handsome face. Age had not taken away from his looks. Grandpa Roma looked as if he was not a day over 45, yet he was at least 58 years old.

At that moment he did not seem handsome; Roma sat hunched at his desk, his shoulders pushed forward and his hands clasped on the desk in front of him as if he was praying. He was mad he could tell, madder than he'd ever seen him before. He half considered leaving but without even looking up to see who it was his Grandfather raised one of his large hands and beckoned him forward. Lovino took a steadying breath and went to stand by the large mahogany table expectantly.

Roma looked up at him slowly. He squirmed under his penetrating gaze; he felt slightly pathetic stood there is his stripped uniform stained with blood and soil from his attack , his arm in a sling and a bandage covering the gash on his head. He knew how terrible he must look but he was still surprised when his Grandfather let out a roar and slammed his fists down onto the desk making it creak. He took a quick step back, terrified.

"That bastard!" His Grandfather's Italian accent was stronger than his. It was laced with fury and rage as he smashed the table again. "That fuck! See! How dare that man-?"

Viktor's voice rose cool and even from the doorway. Lovino did not dare to turn around. "The boy is quite damaged-"

Roma stood up and began to pace angrily by the side of his desk. With a growl he stopped suddenly before Lovino and without warning grabbed him by the good arm and pulled him closer, one huge hand grabbing his chin and moving his face to the side to inspect the damage as if he was a valuable piece of art that had been knocked to the floor.

"Any lasting damage you think?" Roma directed at Viktor.

"Heracles said I should be okay, Grandpa." Lovino managed in a small voice as he tried to ignore the pain the position he was in gave him. His Grandpa flinched in shock as if he had not expected him to respond, Lovino felt a little panicked and hoped he wouldn't be punished for his outburst. Roma's yellow eyes, so very close to Lovino's own, were still clouded by fury.

"You," he demanded letting him go and inspecting him at arms length. "Feli said he called you, Lovino. Why didn't you take up his offer for a ride home? This could have been avoided if you had listened to your little brother."

A swell of guilt filled his stomach. At the time he hadn't thought it was anything to be worried about. His little brother was always exaggerating over something or other, he had just assumed it was another one of those times.

"I-"

"No excuses! You should always listen to your family Lovino. No matter what they say." The grip on his arm was quite tight and he resisted the urge to push him off. His Grandpa must have been worried about him for him to act this way. "We're stronger together; don't forget that."

Of course they were. It was family first, he knew that.

"Yes Grandpa," he bowed his head, not wanting to meet the man's cool gaze. "I won't."

The older man huffed in pleasure and eyed him critically again, his gaze worried and searching. He left him to sit behind his desk once more and sighed, leaning back heavily in his huge leather chair.

"Tell me what happened." He demanded and Lovino complied without question, taking a seat in front of him. He went into great detail about the appearance of his attackers. When it came around to Antonio's rescue he found himself unable to tell his Grandfather the full details, he hoped he wouldn't notice. After he had finished his tale he waited patiently for a reaction. Roma did not look at him for a long time, his gazed fixed on the door as he tapped out a rhythm on his desk.

After a while he sighed through his noise. "You will quit your job."

It was not a request, it was a statement. A simple fact yet it still hurt like a dagger through the heart. He had be expecting it of course. The empty feeling of loss must have shown on his face because his Grandfather stood abruptly and stormed to his side; he placed both hands on either side of him and glared down at him.

"Lovino, do not make this difficult for me." His voice was smooth but there was a powerful force behind it. "You will quit your job-"

"I can't just quit-" His mouth opened and the words tumbled out before he could catch them.

"You will do as you are told!" His shout tore through the air and made him cower back into his seat in fear. "Stupid boy can't you see? God, why can't you be more like your brother?"

The words hit him somewhere deep. Even in his anger his Grandfather must have seen this because he tried to calm himself, he took a deep breath and casually began to brush the hair off of Lovino's face.

"Lovino, Lovi..." He crooned softly, he didn't look at him as he spoke but watched his hand as it traced its way through his Grandson's hair. "See what you make me do? You must see that this job is a _foolish_ notion; it always has been. You don't need a_ job_. I need you, your poor brother needs you, Lovino."

He had played the brother card; there was no escaping him now. No matter what unruly thoughts went through his head he was always brought back down to earth with a crash when his Grandfather mentioned Feliciano. His innocent little brother whose only links to the world of crime were the knowledge of his Grandfather's empire that in the hands of someone out to ruin him would be gold. The innocent little brother who had doted on his every word since they were children. The innocent little brother who he had to protect at all costs. If he ran, Feliciano would stay here and take the rage of his Grandfather, if he stepped out of his duties they would fall to him instead and he could not allow that to happen.

Still he didn't want to leave work. It was his bubble, his life. Lovino didn't want to become head of the family, he wanted an ordinary mundane life working in a shop, an ice cream shop of all places.

"Don't you want to get back at the scum that did this to you?" His Grandfather asked, his expression dark. He touched one of the bruises on his face with a harsh hand. Lovino wasn't sure if he meant to hurt him or not but he did. "You can do that if you like, Lovino. I will let you do that..."

Did he want to hurt people. Surely these people weren't evil. They were normal like him right? Even if he had the means to hurt someone; could he?

His Grandfather released his face with an irritated sigh and leaned back off the chair. He rubbed his face with a weary hand and Lovino thought that for once he looked his age. His Grandfather's eyes travelled to the black marble fireplace that took up a large portion of the room; the only decoration on it was a picture frame, one that Lovino had spent hours and hours looking at for many years.

It was a faded photograph of his parents, a family portrait with a tiny Feliciano on their father's lap and a smaller version of himself stood by their mother, clasping his chubby fist into the folds of her dress. A tiny bundle lay in his mother's arms, a baby's hand reaching out to grasp her hair. Their Grandfather stood in the background, his hand placed lovingly on Lovino's head with a kind smile. He could not remember the picture being taken but his Grandpa has assured him that the grumpy expression on his face was because he could not hold his baby brother. It made him sad to look at the photo nowadays and he avoided it.

Roma took a deep breath, his face turned away from him. There was a very long and dangerous pause before he finally spoke up again. "I didn't want to tell you this Lovino, not until you were older..."

He paused. Lovino's heart thudded in his chest. Grandpa Roma was only ever serious about things like this; what was it he had not wanted to say?

"The car crash that killed your parents and baby brother," He seemed unable to say the words. "I have reason to believe that it wasn't an accident."

Out of the corner of his eye Lovino saw Viktor move suddenly, like a twitch but he ignored it. His mind had gone blank and fuzzy. Was he hearing this right? Not an accident? His parents had died when he was 5 years old, just weeks after the picture on the mantle piece had been taken. He had never asked about the details of his families death, he had accepted it because talking about it made his Grandfather angry. To hear that their deaths may not have been an accident chilled him to the bone because it meant that someone had been out to get them for a very long time. He put two and two together.

"Was it the same people who attacked me today?" His throat sounded hoarse, like he'd been silent for a very long time.

"Our family has never had a good relationship with the Russian Mafia," Roma's tone was offhand and matter of fact. He never hid anything or toned anything down for Lovino, as heir to the criminal empire what was the point in lying to him. "They have been our enemies for a long time. You and your brother are at an age now to succeed me; they must be taking their chances while they can. It is a dangerous world we live in Lovino, one where we must do our duty and protect our loved ones at all costs."

The older man turned to face him, his golden eyes passionate and dark against the light of the room. Stood in his dark suit he was a shadow of a figure staring down onto him with force and a will power he could not fight against.

"So you will quit your little fancy now yes?" He demanded. "You will no longer work in the shop; I forbid it, Lovino. You will work for me now, for Feliciano, for the family."

But not for himself. Feeling his resolve breaking he glanced at the photograph of the family he could have had. He wondered faintly if a life of crime had been what his mother had planned for him, if his father would have wanted him to go into the business. Of course he would never find out now, they had been cruelly taken from him. And by the men who had done this to him, their leaders, for them he had to fight back; right?

He took a shaky breath. "Yes Grandfather. I understand."

A triumphant expression flooded Roma's face. He unfolded his arms and leant down, planting a gentle kiss on the top of his dark head, his hand lingering on his face for a moment longer than necessary.

"_Grazie mia preziosa_," He smiled. He stood back with his arms wide but oddly not welcoming. "Now give your Grandpa a hug Lovino."

With no other option than to get up and follow his order Lovino did as he was told. Roma pulled him forward and crushed his smaller body into his own, ignoring his bruises and his yelp of pain. His arms tightened around him like a bind of steel. He had signed away his life to the Mafia.

Lovino buried his face into his Grandfather's shirt, feeling his decision hit him and tried not to cry.

oOo

**EDIT: Totally forgot to put the translation in. *FACEDESK*  
>Sorry about that...<br>'Grazie mia preziosa' means 'Thank you precious one' in Italian.**

**So what do you all think of Mafia!Grandpa Rome? :')**  
><strong>*Gets shot*<strong>

**I should be working... mehhh**  
><strong>Please, please, pleeeeassse review! Even if it's only one word! It makes my day and lets me know people like the story and want it to continue. I always feel motivated with reviews to look at :) And I will try to reply to them all so any questions or any comments are appreicated. I do read them all and listen to what you guys have to say :)<strong>

**Next chapter will see the first part of the Russian's ;D and of course a bit more Lovi bashing, and maybe some more characters. Who knows? **  
><strong>Review and you shall find out ;D Muwhahaha!<strong>


	4. Illumination

**This is my most popular story ever :D *Streamers* thank you guys! I'll try my best to keep uploading and keep the story on track :)**  
><strong>A special thank you to all who review :D<strong>  
><strong>My beta has not seen this so apologies if it's incorrect. When reading through it after writing it last night I noticed that I'd put 'Russia' instead of 'Ivan' x_x DERP! Anyway if anyone spots those mistakes let me know please? :')<strong>  
><strong>I bought the untouchables especially for inspiration for this story xD I do love that film.<strong>

**This chapter sees the morning after Grandpa Roma's had his say and see's some more chapters come into it :D**  
><strong>I've realised the plot is pretty much chronological so it's all happening the same time straight after if they're in the same chapter or following (unless specified of course. Might have some flashbacks or something later?)**

**Hetalia isn't mine but enjoy anyway :)**

oOo

Lovino found himself trapped in a compact cage.

All around him was an oppressive darkness. He was alone but he could hear voices just outside the bars of his prison, monotone mutterings to which he could place no actual words. This chilled him more than anything. What was going on?

The walls suddenly convulsed and moved. The darkness was baring down on him like a shadow.

Was he imagining it or were the walls closing in on him? He felt the panic rise in his throat, almost choking him. He had to get out. He would be crushed if he did not move.

He ran in a slow dreamlike state to the side of his cage and rattled the bars, screaming for help all the while the walls getting ever closer. The bars didn't move under his touch. They were cold, unyielding. The sweet smell of burning suddenly filled his senses; he was suffocating! There were no flames but the smoke consumed him. Couldn't no one hear him screaming- dammit!

Lovino shook the bars with all his strength, using his last of his air to yell out for help. Someone had to hear him; he could hear them, why couldn't they hear him? God wasn't he loud enough? Why weren't they helping him, he had to get out he-

"Lovino wake up!"

He jolted awake with a gasp. It was suddenly bright and there was no cage, only the covers of his bed surrounding him like a cocoon. Disorientated and confused he found himself staring into a pair of huge amber eyes that were filled with worry. Feliciano breathed a sigh of relief and removed his hands from Lovino's own. His little brother had somehow managed to perch himself on the edge of the bed under the blankets.

"Feli?" He groaned, still half asleep. He was surely still dreaming"What the fuck are you doing in my bed?"

It was a stupid question; one he already knew the answer to. His younger brother had a habit of crawling into his bed, it was a hangover he had from childhood. He hadn't done it in a while, the last time had been when their Grandfather had been mad about one of his deals going wrong and he had been nervous. As children it had not mattered but now Lovino was in his twenties it was hardly appropriate, they barely fit in the bed for God's sake.

"I wanted to see you before school." His brother muttered tearfully. The eyes that traced his sibling's battered face were clouded with horror. "Grandpa said you had been hurt and I thought I'd see you but you were asleep, your poor face Lovi-"

"I'm fine." He lied knowing he definitely didn't look or feel it. The adrenalin from last night had worn off and now he was feeling his beating this morning. He kept it quiet though, if he knew he would only worry. Instead he tried to smile, wincing as his face hurt. "Don't freak out on me, Feli. It's just a few bruises."

He didn't look convinced.

"Were you having another nightmare?" Feliciano's voice was quiet, tentative as he knew he was touching a nerve. Nightmares were part of Lovino's life. Sometimes he found himself waking up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat and shaking like a leaf, unable to rid his mind of the images he had just seen. Most times his brother, who lived in the room across the hall, would hear him shouting out and come and comfort him. However on the nights he slept through, Lovino would lie awake all night unable to rest. He was silently grateful for his little brother's support, even if he did invite himself into his bed like a little kid.

"Nothing to write home about." He grunted, shaking him off lightly. He raised a critical eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be at school?"

"Heracles is driving me today." Feliciano said brightly, not catching the hint to move. He was taking up a lot of the bed and it was awkward. His grin was bright and cheerful although there was a shadow of sadness across his expression that Lovino didn't like. "Grandpa said he wanted us to be extra careful for a while so no walking to school and he said he was going to get us bodyguards like Viktor; won't that be nice?"

Having someone to plague his every move? A walking human shield? Another reminder of his new status as future head of the family?

"Sure." His mouth felt dry. The night before flooded back and his body felt numb. His brother couldn't help but notice something wrong and his smile drooped like a wilting flower.

"Everything will be okay Lovi," He seemed to want to hug him but it was impossible in the bed so he held his hands instead, Lovino didn't shake him off like he normally would. Feliciano was the sort of person that breezed through life easily and happily but he was not an idiot. He was witness to his Grandfather's antics as much as him. He knew all too well what he did, and what Lovino would one day have to do.

"Will it?" He whispered softly. His brother knew nothing of his indecision because he never asked yet he found himself suddenly compelled to tell him everything. But he didn't, his mouth remained closed even as his heart screamed out. He didn't want him to know. To know would mean he was involved.

Oblivious, Feliciano smiled squeezing his hands a little.

"One day it will," he did look like he truly believed it. "Go back to sleep _fratello_ okay? I'll see you when I get back from school."

Lovino hadn't even realised his eyelids had been drooping until his brother said 'sleep' and suddenly it's pull strengthened on his mind. He was still exhausted. He tried to say something else but all that came out of his mouth was a low grumble. Before he slipped back under he heard Feliciano's tittering laugh and felt a soft hand brush his hair off his face sending him into a deep, dreamless sleep.

oOo

It was past noon when Lovino next came to, alone in his room. The sun was high in the sky and his window was open to allow the summer breeze to drift through the gap, he smiled as he realised it must have been his little brother who had done it. He was probably worried that it would get too stuffy in his room as he slept.

He lay in bed for a long time before heaving himself out of it, moving himself sluggishly to a sitting position and swinging his legs out of bed. He was unable to hold back the yelp of pain that escaped his lips as his entire body protested at the movement. His gaze turned to the floor length mirror by the side of his bed. It was the first time Lovino had looked at himself since he was attacked, he looked rough; his body was covered in purple marks all over his stomach and arms. His face was even more battered, his forehead under the gauze of the bandage was purple and the colour seemed to drip down his face and to his eye which was puffed up and angry looking. His head pounded and his body ached. He had to take something to make the pain go away. He would have to go to the first aid box in the kitchen.

He pulled on a long sleeved shirt with difficulty, manoeuvring around his sprained wrist. When he was partway presentable he padded out of his room with a slight limp and headed downstairs. He cursed aloud to himself about his room being on the third floor of their four story apartment as he stumbled on the stairs.

The hallways were surprisingly empty and he passed no one on the way down. His Grandfather lived on the top floor, in the room above his own, and barely ventured off the top landing so it was not unusual to see him for days on end. Most of his food was brought up to him to save him the hassle of coming down the stairs. The other inhabitants of the apartment were himself, his brother and a small handful of servants including Heracles and Viktor. He was shocked that they were not hanging around somewhere as they usually did. Perhaps they were with his Grandfather in one of him meetings?

He reached the next floor and he breathed a sigh of relief. It was the main floor of the apartment; the kitchen and dining room were on this floor as well as a sitting area that they hardly ever used except when entertaining guests. The servants quarters and boiler room were on the floor below, kept well out of sight from visitors. His Grandfather was old fashioned in that he believed servants should be kept out of sight, that the hired help were meant to be seen only when needed so they were tucked away in the rooms below. Apart from Viktor of course, his bodyguard had the room next to his own so that they were always close.

The first floor was opulent for an apartment. White and black marble covered the floor and white paint shone on the walls. The light from the sun that filtered down through the skylight on the top floor which could be seen if a person were to crane their necks and look upwards between the stairs. Again it was quiet here too, he had expected to have seen at least one person on the way down but there was no one, the apartment seemed almost empty. Lovino was almost glad. He walked slowly and painfully in the direction of the kitchen. The door was a jar and he opened it silently.

He was surprised to find the maid, Elizabeta stood washing pots in the kitchen. Her long hair was tied up neatly under a small hat and she wore a simple black dress and crisp white apron. He froze in shock, he had thought the place was empty. She did not hear his entrance and had her back to the door, she hummed sweetly as she placed clean dishes on the side ready to put away.

Lovino was just about to call out to her when he noticed with a funny jolting feeling in his heart that she was holding her stomach. Holding it in a way that suggested more than just a stomach ache. The expression on her face was sincere and far away as she sung lightly to herself. The golden light of the sun shone off the brass pots that hug on the wall and the shimmers reflected onto her face; she was glowing.

No way, no bloody way. Lovino stared at the woman before him in shock. Even he could tell what that look meant, he was not stupid or blind. She was not showing yet but there was no doubt that Elizabeta was pregnant. There could be no other explanation. She and her husband, Roderich who was the butler, had been married for over two years now. It was to be expected yet the news still struck him.

There was a squeak as he leant to hard on the door and she spun around in shock, quickly removing her hand from her stomach.

"Lovino!" She said looking oddly relieved that it was just him but as she looked closer at him her expression fell. Her green eyes went huge and sympathetic. "Oh my poor boy! What are you doing up? You should be resting."

He paused before he spoke, still feeling confused at what he'd just seen. "I've come to get something to stop the aches if I'm honest."

"Sit down." She chided, clucking around him like a mother hen. Before he'd even asked her to, she had taken off the bandage on his head and got out the materials to make a new one. She muttered under her breath as she worked, the look on her face was slightly murderous and he didn't dare ask her about what he'd just seen.

Elizabeta was five years older than Lovino himself, she had been ten when he and Feliciano had begun to live with their Grandfather after their parents had died in the car crash. She had doted on his little brother but he too had been her friend in his own awkward way. Her own parents had been servants to the family back then but they had died when she was in her late teens, she had stayed on as the family maid. She was a kind hearted girl but feisty in nature, she was not exactly suited to the demure role but she did her job well. Lovino did not see her as a servant but as a sisterly figure.

"Here," she said after she had finished changing his bandage, passing him a glass of water and medicine which he took gratefully with a grunt of thanks. She stared long and hard at him.

"How do you feel?" She asked.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" The words fell out of his mouth before he could stop them. He couldn't help it; he had thought they were friends, that she would have shared her good news with him maybe. He couldn't help but feel a little put out.

He immediately wished he'd kept his mouth shut, he had expected her to be flustered which he could take. What he did not expect was for her eyes to cloud with sudden, terrified tears.

"Lovino, please," she whispered. "Please you can't tell anyone, especially not your Grandfather."

"Why not?" He stared in shock.

"Because-" she started and then stopped. Lovino looked down at her confused; why could his Grandfather not know? He didn't understand. Surely a new child in the house was something to celebrate? Her green eyes were wide and startled. Suddenly she knelt on the floor in front of him he expression pleading.

There was the noise of brisk footsteps outside the kitchen and Roderich burst through the door and stopped dead at the scene of his wife on the floor looking up imploringly at Lovino. His face went pale under his dark immaculate hair and his eyes dark behind his glasses. Without a word he closed the door behind him and hurried forward. He looked down at Lovino with a stubborn pout.

"He found out?" He asked and his wife nodded. He shook his head. "Goodness Eliza, I told you to watch what you were doing. Now the boy knows."

Both Roderich and Elzabeta called him boy even though they were only a few years older than him. Both of them had been in the apartment as servants as long as he could remember and they had always called him that. It was either that or master which he hated with a passion so he put up with it.

"I don't understand," he said wearily. His head hurt still and the drugs had yet to take effect.

"You have to Lovino, you need to keep this information to yourself." There was a serious note to Roderich's voice, his navy eyes narrowed although somehow fearful. "It is imperative that nobody else knows. Not your brother, not your Grandfather, no one. Please Lovino."

He caught sight of the woman before him and saw the girl he once knew. He knew he couldn't do anything to hurt her. Whatever the stupid reason he would keep their secret, even if he didn't understand. Both of them seemed quite adamant he kept him mouth shut, fearful almost; he shook it off.

"Fine, damn it," he grumbled. It was all too much for his head right now, he just wanted to lie down and sleep again; at least in dreams he only had nightmares to deal with, in real life he was stuck with confusion.

They looked immediately relieved as though he had just promised to protect them with his life. He didn't see the need and frankly his bad mood was increasing with every minute. He excused himself roughly and exited the kitchen. He made his slow way upstairs, clutching the handrail desperately so his sore legs wouldn't have to do much of the uphill work. He was halfway up the first flight of stairs when three figures came towards him. He was shocked to see his Grandfather out of his room, dressed in a finely tailored bottle green suit with Viktor hovering behind him like a shadow. At the sight of him his Grandpa's face twisted into a pleasant grin.

"Ahh there you are Lovi," he purred. He gestured to the man beside him. "We have been looking for you."

Lovino stared openly at the other familiar man with a horrible sinking sensation in his stomach. He had obviously tried to make an effort at dressing up but next to his immaculate Grandfather his suit looked extremely shabby and worn but his smile was still in place, cheerful as always.

"_Hola,_ Lovino," Antonio said brightly. "I'm glad to see you are well."

oOo

A bright mid-day sun bore down on the open field, a few miles from the city's boarder. The sky was a clear blue and the weather promised to be good for the rest of the day. The air was calm and still until a sudden shout and blast cut through the landscape making the flock of birds in the nearby trees rising up into the air with terrified caws.

A man clapped at the shot. He stood far back at a safe distance from the shooters. Despite the heat of the heat of the summer day he wore a long coat and a scarf over the top of his dark suit. A young boy with light brown hair stood by his side with the man's hat clutched in his grip, a cautious expression on his face. The man's hair gleamed in the sunlight, the pale blond locks catching the rays of sun.

The shout rose up again and the two shooters before him readied their aims to the sky as the clay pigeon shot from the nearby mechanism with a whir. The two women with the guns fired; the shorter female's shot missed but the shot by the woman with the shorter hair hit it's mark and the disk tumbled out of the sky. Ivan Braginski knew that if he was to go and search for the disk he would find a hole directly through the centre, the thought pleased him and he smiled, but the smile did not reach his cold eyes. His skin was pale and his eyes, a shade of blue so bright they almost seemed purple, stood out from his rather large nose.

"You see my friends," he said to the two men beside him his tone conversational, their gazes aimed at the floor as if they dare not look at him. His accent was Russian. " Katyusha is the better shot of the two, she is good at her job, she is patient. Natalia is too impulsive, she fires to early. That is why she is not my favourite for jobs; sometimes you need patience. Like me."

The two men made no comment. They stood in silence for a long time the grin on the man's face frozen as if carved from ice. With the same innocent, cold smile on his lips Ivan's hand suddenly shot up like a snake with no warning, his fingers wrapping around the nearest man's neck without even looking at him. He had shoulder length brown hair and his blue eyes widened in shock as he gasped for air, the other man next to him stared up but did not move to help him.

"Why was the job not finished Toris?" Ivan asked sweetly, the smile still curled on his lips. His fingers tightened around the brunettes neck and he struggled with his hand to release him but his grip was like iron. The leather gloves on Ivan's hand creaked with the pressure. The boy next to him shivered in fear and closed his eyes, his face pale. The shooters carried on as if nothing was wrong.

"Please, sir." Toris' blond companion finally spoke up. The glasses on the bridge of his nose shook as he looked up at his boss. "We were interrupted-"

"But I asked for the Vargas boy to be mortally wounded," Ivan argued, a flicker of irritation flashing across his eyes dangerously. He did not let Toris go. "I wanted his Grandfather to suffer in the knowledge that he could not save his heir. I wanted him to watch him die. I wanted him to know never to cross me again. Yet the boy walks around free as if my will means nothing; does it mean nothing to you Eduard?"

"No sir!" His eyes grew panicked behind his glasses. He spoke quickly barely able to form the words. "A civilian stepped in and saved the boy. We did not want to harm an innocent bystander-"

Ivan let Toris go and he dropped to the floor choking for air. The look in the Russian's eye was murderous, the smile on his face growing ever sweeter by the second.

"So my two best thugs have grow hearts, is that it?"

"No-ple-ase-sir," Toris tried to cough but he found a gun pressed to his forehead and he froze as though he barely dared to breath. He looked up into his boss' merciless eyes and gulped.

"Shut up Toris, before I shoot you." Ivan's tone was silky. He smiled brightly as he pocketed the gun so it was in easy reach inside his jacket pocket. "I will not give you warning next time, _da_?"

He nodded his understanding and stayed cowering on the floor as Ivan wandered a bit away from the two men a thoughtful look on his face. It was a calculating look as if he was overlooking a chessboard rather than a field.

How would he right the wrongs of his idiotic men? Honestly, people could be so _useless_ sometimes; it gave him a headache. It was a good job, he thought, that he was a man who always had a back up. Every scenario had a backup because he did not like a rotten job. Bad ideas were destroyed. And he had the perfect backup.

He returned to them after a moment his eyes shining brightly.

"Luckily for you I am a patient man. Your accident last night will not affect our overall plans." He declared cheerfully. "The wheels are in motion now for my empire to rein supreme and for Roma's to fall, as it rightly should. The boy is no threat to us at any rate."

He clicked his fingers in the direction of the young boy who visibly flinched at the movement.

"Raivis!" He commanded and the boy held out the hat in his shaking hands. The Russian smiled down onto the young boy and laughed chillingly. "I want a pen and paper Raivis. Now."

The child looked panic stricken, his eyes wide with fear. A bead of sweat rolled down his face and onto his shirt that had nothing to do with the warm weather.

"Y-yes sir." He fished into the large bag he wore at his side but it was too large and he seemed to be having trouble locating the pen amongst all the other items. All the time the Russian looked at him, his hand held out expectantly and the smile plastered to his face. He began to hum to himself and Raivis whimpered pitifully before a look of relief plastered his face and he drew out a pen with triumph.

The Russian did not thank his helper but took the objects and wrote down a message, handing the paper back to the boy once he had done.

"Make sure this is wired straight away please, the usual place." He ordered pleasantly. The boy received the paper and turned away when Ivan's voice suddenly called out in a sing song voice. "Raivis, my hat..."

The child froze and shivered visibly before turning back to his master. His face was pale as he handed over the offending item; he received it without a word.

Suddenly with another quick movement Ivan hand pulled out his revolver and pointed it to the floor at the boys feet and fired a single shot. Toris and Eduard winced.

The bullet just missed embedding itself into his foot, Raivis swayed on his feet holding back a scream of terror, his eyes huge and dilated. He looked as if he would pass out.

"That was also a warning, do not anger me again. Now go and wire my message." The boy didn't need to be told twice and sped off to the awaiting cars, bundling into one and telling the driver where to go. Ivan watched him, no longer smiling, his expression as cold as his ice.

"Katyusha! Natalia!" He shouted and the women looked over from their sport. "We leave now."

Without even checking to see if they had followed his orders he turned and followed Raivis' retreating car, his hands dug into his pockets. Natalia, the woman with the longer hair, carelessly threw down her gun and charged after him. The other woman followed at a slower pace, stopping briefly to help Eduard lift Toris from the floor. Together they headed to the idling cars.

oOo

**Whatever it is that's wrong blame Russia :')**  
><strong>Yes he is my bad guy but who else has a mafia? (And china has a place before you say anything ;D He's in it in around chapter 7-8. Maybe...)<strong>

**Tonnes of thanks for all who review this! I try to reply to all reviews so questions are cool. Reviews make me happy! :D VERY HAPPY! :3**

**Erghh I'm so tired. It's midnight in the uk and I promised to put this up as soon as it was done :L**  
><strong>Off to bed!<strong>

**Next chapter sees Antonio and Lovino getting to know each other i.e. Lovi finding out that his Spanish hero is actually quite annoying to him ;D I wonder why...?**

**REVIEW PLEZ! Hasta la pastaaaa~**


	5. Tea and Churros

**Ahh these chapters get longer :') I can't stop myself from writing sometimes.**  
><strong>Thank you very much to the people who reviewed and added this story to their story alerts favourites :D HAPPY!**  
><strong>I love you all very much~<strong>

**I tried to get some crack in here :L hope it worked! And some bad language from Lovi :') I know you all want it!**

**Got my xmas shopping done now :D with it so close to xmas it might have to be after when I upload depending on how the production of chapter six is stalled by my family/ friends/ life. If it's not up before xmas I will definitely get it to you straight after, so see this as an early pressie from meee :D**

**My friend got me a hetalia notepad for christmad :'D she knows me too well!**

**Hetalia isn't mine :( gutted.**  
><strong>No beta :)<strong>

oOo

Lovino couldn't believe what he was seeing. He had to be dreaming; there was no way that Antonio, his Antonio, could be stood right there in his stairwell. It was impossible. He hadn't given him his full name and definitely he hadn't given him his address so how the hell had he found out where he lived? And how had he suddenly become so friendly with his Grandfather?

He was so shocked he barely registered the Spaniard's statement, instead opting to open and close his mouth rapidly in confusion as words failed to come to him. Roma scowled down at him.

"Where are you manners?" He growled, his golden eyes burning. "Say hello to our guest Lovino."

"It's okay," Antonio assured him with a chuckle, his whole attention focused on Lovino's slim frame with an unfathomable expression on his face. "He's probably just shocked to see me, right?"

His green eyes were bright and playful, the smile on his face easy and calm. He looked exactly the same as the previous night, the suit only masking his raw earthiness. He stood at ease with the older man beside him, seemingly unfazed, which meant he had no idea who he was talking to. Lovino breathed an inward sigh of relief.

"I guess I am," he said quickly. "What are you doing here?"

"Funny story actually," he scratched the side of his head fluffing up his already messy hair. "I got back to my room and realised you hadn't given me your name; I felt such an idiot, how on earth was I meant to see if you were okay without your name? I was going to ask your boss where to find you but this morning as I was leaving your car was at the curb and your driver says that your Grandfather would like to speak to me. Funny eh?"

"You wanted to find me?" Lovino felt confused. No one had ever wanted to see him again after meeting him once. Everyone claimed he was too rude, too ill-tempered, yet here he was. There had to be some sort of catch. Maybe after he'd seen the car he'd put two and two together and assumed he could claim a reward of some sort; yes that had to be it.

Roma smiled and slipped his arm around Antonio's shoulders in a friendly gesture.

"This young man was telling me about what happened last night in great detail," he was being very charming, all smiles and niceties for their visitor. "But then we got talking about the Mediterranean; the conversation was very engaging and I lost track of time. We were coming down to see you-"

There was a sudden knock on the front door cutting the conversation short. They all turned to watch as Elizabeta appeared from the kitchen to answer it, dusting down her voluminous skirt as she walked. She opened the door promptly to reveal a man who lounged in the door way. His suit was an ostentatious black and red and his hat was pulled over his spiky hair in a jaunty angle. He swaggered through the open door without being asked, ignoring Elizabeta's dark scowl at his retreating back. Out of the corner of his eye Lovino saw his Grandfather tense.

"Yo! Roma!" The man drawled coming to the bottom of the stairs, the ornate cane in his hand clacking on the floor with every step.

"Mathias." His Grandfather's tone was severe but he smiled, a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Lovino's heart sunk to his stomach. Mathias was one of his Grandpa's underlings. He did a lot of work with the smuggling business; his presence in the apartment could not be anything but ominous. "I thought I told you not to come to the house?"

"Oh yeah, totally forgot!" The man laughed but an uneasy light came to his eyes. However his smirk stayed frozen in place. "I can see you're busy, should I meet you-?"

"No, you had better come up now." Roma sighed releasing Antonio from his grasp. The Spaniard smiled warmly as the older man turned to him. " I'm afraid business calls Mr Carriedo, I'll send Heracles later as planned. I look forward to your presence at dinner this evening."

They shook hands as Mathias stalked up the stairs. Together he, Roma and Viktor removed themselves to the top floor leaving Lovino alone with Antonio. There was an awkward silence.

"Your home is very beautiful Lovino." Antonio said breaking it as he breezed down the last few steps towards him. "And your Grandfather is an interesting man. You are very lucky to have both."

"Thanks I guess," he said gruffly. "You're coming to dinner?"

"Yes!" The Spaniard looked delighted. Almost too delighted, probably faking it. "I was invited to stay until evening and then eat with you and your family. It'll be nice to have some proper food again and your Grandpa boasted about your traditional Italian food, how could a man resist the promise of good pasta?"

Their pasta did taste good. Feliciano was a budding cook and would sometimes sneak into the kitchen to practise with Elizabeta. Lovino himself had dabbled in cooking but his Grandfather had forbidden him to practise such 'needless arts' when there was a house of servants to do the work for him. Since then he had not cooked although he sometimes had the urge to.

"What are you going to do until then?" Lovino asked wearily. The man before him was tiring just to look at. How could one person be so happy? He had guessed he was kind of cheerful when he had saved him but he had assumed that was because he was putting on a brave face not to freak him out. It seemed it was an everyday sort of thing.

"I had thought I would talk to you for a bit," he replied a winning grin on his face. He winked one brilliant green eye in his direction. "You know, get to know the guy whose life I saved."

Lovino blushed deeply; what was that supposed to mean?

"Of course you don't have to if you don't want to." Antonio continued, seemingly oblivious. "If you would rather rest then that's fine, I'm sure there is plenty for me to do around here-"

"No, it's fine." He objected. Lovino was not quite sure why he was agreeing to entertain Antonio when he would rather lay down somewhere and sleep. Part of him agreed it would be politer to at least spend time with the man that saved him, even if without a pain filled haze he seemed slightly overwhelming. He couldn't put his finger on what it was, something about the man made him feel disorientated. Maybe it was his handsome face and the way his grin was lightly lopsided like a puppy. Or maybe it was his silly floppy hair. In any case he did not want Antonio snooping around the apartment, perhaps walking in on his Grandpa's meeting with Mathias which would not go down well for anyone involved.

"Let's go for a drink in the kitchen." Lovino suggested, signalling they had to go back down the stairs. With a small groan he began his slow decent.

Suddenly strong hands grabbed him from behind and began to steer him with perfect gentleness down the stairs, taking most of his weight upon their arms.

"What are you doing?" His voice came out higher than he intended.

"Helping you down the stairs." Antonio said brightly as though it was nothing, his words flickering on the back of his ears. He repressed the need to recoil sticking to moving away quickly when they hit the last step, his cheeks burning once again. Strangers should not hold each other like that!

He did not thank him, opting instead to storm his way towards the kitchen doors. The Spaniard followed behind him without comment, whistling lightly under his breath a popular song that Lovino had heard on the wireless when his brother had switched it on in his room. Lovino wasn't a fan of music most of the time and the song grated on him and he ground his teeth in frustration, slamming the door open with more force than intended.

Elizabeta, who was still working in the room, gave a startled shriek of terror at the sudden intrusion. She spun around from the counter to face them, her hand on her chest, the other hand holding a knife to cut up the vegetables for dinner.

"Lov-" She started in recognition but then her eyes flicked up to the stranger beside him. "Master Vargas! You gave me such a fright. Is there something wrong? Anything you need?"

He hated it when she had to speak with the formality of a person of her station. Usually they were on first name terms, but that was only until his Grandfather or someone outside the family came over, then she spoke to him as though he was some sort of lord.

"Nothing's wrong Eliza," he said lightly. He traipsed over to the kettle and after filling it, put it on the stove to boil. "And please don't trouble yourself. I am quite capable of making a drink for myself. Please continue with the preparations for the meal."

Her eyes widened but she curtsied slightly. "Yes sir."

"This is Antonio," Lovino said grudgingly. He had introduce them if they were going to drink their beverages in the same room as she was working. "He is the one who saved my ass last night."

"It was nothing," Antonio waved a hand in the air dismissively, taking a seat at the small table that the household used when not eating together. "What any good citizen would have done really."

"It was very brave of you," Lovino objected before shutting his mouth suddenly at the complement. Antonio's eyes locked onto his own thoughtfully and his mouth opened but Elizabeta literally throwing herself at him stopped whatever it was he was going to say, all sense of position gone.

"Thank you!" She squealed, hugging him close to her bosom. Lovino watched open mouthed, resisting the urge to put his hand to his face in embarrassment. "Thank you so much! If you hadn't been there I don't want to think what would have happened to poor Lovino, and his dear brother would have been devastated-"

"Elizabeta! Let the man breath!"

She released him almost reluctantly. Antonio looked sheepish at all the attention and scratched his head like he had before, his hair flying upwards once again, probably why he never seemed to be styled. He would wipe any cream out immediately.

"Would you like some snacks with your drink?" She asked with a smile all her attention focused on the guest. Lovino shook his head wearily as he disappeared from the conversation as he usually did. He silently prepared the tea as Elizabeta and Antonio chatted away, he wasn't listening but he caught snatches of the conversation. Something about cakes.

In the hallway the phone began to ring. Lovino glanced to the hallway and contemplated getting it but the sound of clipping shoes along the tiles signalled Roderich's arrival. He heard the butler's cool, clear voice answer the phone and a short and quite brisk communication take place. A moment later the man himself entered the kitchen looking extremely nettled.

"Sir," he said addressing Lovino with a respectful nod. His cheeks flushed at the title but he motioned for him to continue. "A man just called for you, I think it may have been your boss."

He remembered he still had to go and quit. That would have to be tomorrow now. "What did Francis say?"

"I'm not quite sure, it was mainly screaming in French." Roderich raised one dark eyebrow and pursed his lips. "Quite rude."

"Oh," he mumbled, a sinking feeling in his gut. Francis must have been mad with the state of the shop and because he had not locked the door. It was probably a good thing he was quitting, he doubted there would be a job to go back to.

"Can you please call him back and tell him that I will hand in my uniform tomorrow?" Lovino asked lightly. Roderich nodded and hurried off to do as he requested. When he turned back to the kitchen he found Elizabeta gone and Antonio's eyes focused on him with worry. He hadn't even noticed she had left.

"Your boss mad with you over the mess?" He asked sympathetically. "I'm sure if you explained he would-"

"No, there's no point; I'm quitting anyway." Lovino shook his head, turning his gaze away so that he could not read the expression in his eyes. He busied himself with the teapot just to have something to do with his hands. "I have decided to work for my Grandfather instead, he has offered me the job many times. Perhaps now is the best time to take it."

He brought over the tea set and some coffee. Antonio's expression was mildly curious.

"Really? What is it your Grandfather does exactly?"

Lovino, who was in the process of pouring the hot water into the cups jumped violently and spilt some of the liquid all over the side where it dripped over the side and onto his legs, scalding him.

"Fuck!" He yelped before he could stop himself. He blanched at the swear word, he usually only thought them silently to himself; it was bad manners to swear in public and not the behaviour of a gentleman. He bit his lip in frustration but to his surprise Antonio laughed.

"What are you laughing at jerk?" He demanded feeling the heat rise to his cheeks in anger. What the hell was he laughing at? "Is it funny to burn yourself back where he came from or something?"

"I'm sorry," Antonio chuckled as he mopped up the spill with the nearest towel. His eyes had tears in them and his handsome face twitched as he tried not to laugh again. "It was just the expression on your face Lovi, such a picture."

He flinched as though he had been hit and clenched his hands together in fists. "Don't call me that."

"Your Grandfather calls it you." Antonio pointed out fairly, finishing Lovino's job of pouring the drinks out and doing a better job than him. "I like it, it is sweet."

Lovino opened his mouth to snap back something but Elizabeta appeared at his shoulder carrying a tray of small buns and pastries which she had apparently gone to fetch.

"Try not to eat too many," she scolded as he laid it delicately on the table, taking off the china plates from the corner and handing them one each. "You will ruin your appetite for dinner."

"Ooh," Antonio half whispered in awe, gazing down at the sugary treats as if they were a gift from heaven. His green eyes were wide as he took in all that the tray had to offer and the excitement was clear from the set of his face. Looking at that face Lovino found his anger ebbing slightly and he dropped back down into his chair awkwardly. The Spaniard, ignoring the maid's warning, helped himself to a variety of cakes as quickly as humanly possible, as though they would disappear if he did not take them straight away. With a resigned sigh Lovino took the nearest cake and picked at it half heartedly, his head on his hands as he watched the man in front of him eat.

"Mmm," he hummed pleasantly, his mouth stuffed full of cake. He swallowed loudly. "Ah, this is really good! You aren't eating?"

"Not very hungry-"

"You should, they taste great although not as nice as churros. Maybe you could have some churros one day, Lovi," Antonio declared happily, moving onto the next pastry with a flourish. Lovino gritted his teeth in annoyance. "They're wonderful! Have you ever tried them before?"

Before he could answer Antonio had already carried on, happily chatting away to himself.

"No, I don't think you would have." He grinned and took a huge bite from his pastry. "They have honey and sugar on and they are quite delicious. My mother used to make them all the time for me. It was said in our village she was the best churros maker in a twelve mile radius; our family had a stall for the tourists in the warm season that sold them."

He trailed of a far away look in his eye. Lovino glared at him across the table, a nerve throbbing in his head. This man was irritating, he was far too happy, he spoke too much. How the hell was he meant to put up with someone like that after years of solitude? And that inane grin that made his tanned face light up radiantly as if his whole life he had wanted nothing more than to sit with him and eat cake.

Perhaps he was being too grumpy, he reasoned. Antonio was just a ordinary guy trying to be friendly to get to know him. Maybe it was his fault for being so antisocial? He had never had many friends but right now he didn't need any. Friends, as his Grandpa said, were an inconvenience.

"I'm not much of a sweet person." He said with a grimace, deciding to at least attempt to be polite. Antonio was only staying until dinner. He could put up with him until then at least. Or so he prayed.

"Really?" The Spaniard looked thoughtful, he cocked his head to one side as he chewed. "Perhaps you would like some tomatoes then? You are Italian after all! All Italian's love tomatoes although not as much as the Spanish if you don't mind me saying Lovi."

Again with the nickname. He repressed the urge to yell something, his face twisting up in control. Once again Antonio started laughing.

"Ah Lovi, your face!" He cried, pointing. "It's as red as a tomato!"

Without warning he leaned forward and pinched his cheek with one of his hands. It did not hurt but that was the final straw, something within him snapped. He flung his hand away and stood up suddenly, his chair scrapping along the floor with a grating sound that jarred the ear.

"You bastard I told you not to call me that!" He growled his fist clenched by his side. Some part of his mind once again recoiled from the swearing but he ignored it, too overcome by pure fury. Stupid Spanish bastard! Who did he think he was?

To his shock Antonio did not look put off by his anger. Instead he looked amused, the laughter dancing in his green eyes as he placed his hands calmly on the table before him with a smirk.

"But it's your name." He argued pleasantly with a wink. Lovino visibly bristled, taking in a deep breath to calm. He had never found someone so disagreeable in his entire life.

However a minute part of him flared with a feeling he could not place, and as he glared down at the Spaniard the feeling grew. It was a sudden spark of emotion that blossomed into a fire in the pit of his stomach. He had never felt anything so passionate in his entire life, it made him squirm with the intensity. The urge to do something the man to stop him grinning grew so hard that he had to hold the table to keep himself from launching himself at him.

He had to leave before anything happened he would regret. Lovino turned on his heel and sped from the room as fast as his injured body would allow without turning back. Elizabeta's voice trailed after him, just before the door closed.

"I haven't seen him look like that in a while," she commented with a small, unprofessional giggle. "He must really like you."

oOo

**Churros love :'D**

**Next chapter sees the fated dinner :') Oh Lovi what have you got yourself into?**  
><strong>Not sure if the spamano is going the right way here, a little feedback would be really helpful. Remember though this is the beginning of it all so don't be too mean unless you really think it sucks :D<strong>  
><strong>And my story alertersfavouriters! You know who you are are! Special plee to you guys who must like the story enough to carry on reading it :P your opinion is very important cos I'm working for you! So review! And get cookies***

***Please note these cookies are not real :')**

**Until next time my dears~**


	6. A Quiet Family Meal

**I did it :D Got this chapter up before Christmas as promised :3 cookies? Please?**  
><strong>However what with the holiday and stuff this means I'll be leaving it a little before chapter 7. And I have to get a start on my essays next week which should take priority. So it's back to work for me. I'll keep this story up though! Got tonight to get started on chapter 7 so it may be up next week :)<strong>

**Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, favourited or alerted this story last time! :D**

**This one is un beta'd again so there will be mistakes. **  
><strong>Not too keen on this chapter, wanted it to be better : kind of rushed it to get it up in time and I didn't want to wait until tomorrow night to put it up incase no one saw it. So here is a slightly garbage chapter. SORRY! Promise it'll get better ;_;**

**Hetalia isn't mine. If it was the word would implode :')**

oOo

The atmosphere at the dinner table was grim to say the least. The room's four occupants sat in silence with drinks before them at a large ornate table. It was large enough to seat many more people but only six places had been set for the meal ahead.

Lovino wished his Grandfather would hurry up so he could food and get out.

Of course, Feliciano and that bastard Antonio didn't seem to mind one bit about the wait, they chatted merrily together from the other side of the table. He watched their mouths moving up and down as they spoke but he was blocking out their conversation. He avoided eye contact with Antonio who repeatedly tried to catch his attention as Feliciano spoke inanely about school and other rubbish. He sighed, his brother could be such an airhead sometimes.

Lovino scowled at the young man next to him with distaste. He was very tall and muscular looked almost like a blond gorilla shoved in a suit, or so he thought. Ludwig was Viktor's grandson and was one of the older boys in Feliciano's year at school, they hung around together for some reason. Lovino disliked him because Ludwig often didn't speak to him and because his brother's obsession with him made no sense; he saw nothing of note in the man apart from his ridiculously large physique. At that moment Ludwig sat quietly his hands on the table, watching the other two men chat away looking expressionless as usual. Feeling his gaze upon him the blond man turned questioningly to face Lovino and eyed him with his penetrating blue gaze.

"I heard about the attack," he mumbled, his voice deep. "I hope you feel better soon."

"Whatever." Lovino snorted taking a large gulp of water. Normally he would have shouted at the man but he felt that all his energy had been spent on his argument with Antonio. He was still fuming at the sheer audacity he had to sit there smiling and laughing at him as he tried and failed to control his temper. Lovino found himself glaring at him even though he was trying to avoid looking at him. Stupid, stupid-

"It was very brave of you to help my brother Antonio!" Feliciano sang. He looked delighted that they were all sat together and seemed oblivious to the nettled air that surrounded his brother. "It must have been scary to fight those men in the alley, I'm sure even Ludwig would have been scared but I'm not sure because he's pretty big so-"

The doors of the dining hall opened wide cutting off Feliciano's prattling. Their Grandfather entered, still dressed in his green suit with Viktor trailing behind him. Lovino stood on his entrance respectfully, his hand (the other still in the sling) behind his back; Ludwig following suit. His brother too was up in a quick, happy bounce but it took Antonio a second to realise what they were all doing and stood up sheepishly a moment later.

"Grandpa!" His brother said joyously, racing out from behind his seat to meet the older man in a hug. Roma must have been in a good mood because he caught his grandson and spun him around in a circle laughing, his golden eyes bright with a paternal light that shone as he looked down as the youngest child.

"Ah my little Feli, look how much you have grown!" He said holding him at arms length. His smile was wide. "How was school?"

"Good Grandpa!" he replied gazing up at him. "We painted today in art class, it was fun! I invited Ludwig like you told me to."

"Good boy," he patted him on the head and turned to his guests. Ludwig bowed once and received a nod from his own Grandfather who stood by his side. Roma turned to Antonio and his grin widened. "How was your day in the house, Mr Carriedo?"

"I enjoyed it very much, Mr Vargas." Antonio held himself with none of the respectful pretence of Ludwig and seemed totally at ease once again. He smiled warmly. "Your maid is an excellent pastry cook and Lovino was very ah- entertaining."

Lovino felt a blush rise in his face. What was he lying for? He had stormed off and sulked in his room for the past few hours, he would hardly class that as entertaining. However he was silently he was glad that Antonio did not mention their argument, his Grandfather would be livid with him for abandoning his guest to mope in his room like a child. Luckily Roma didn't seem to notice anything was amiss and merely shook his hand in welcome.

"I am glad you like it." He said as he rounded the table to stand at the head. He stopped in front of Lovino, towering over him like a storm cloud his golden eyes glaring down at him. Wordlessly he stooped a little to kiss him in greeting on both cheeks, his hand lingering on his face for a moment before he stepped back. When he retreated his smile was back in place and he sat down in his seat signalling that they could do so too. Viktor took the chair beside Ludwig.

Out of the corner of his eyes Lovino glanced at the bodyguard's action. It was very unusual for him to have meals with them, he barely seemed to eat at all. When they had been younger he and Feliciano had believed him to be a real vampire but of course he was just a man, slightly strange but definitely human. He wondered at what his presence at the table could mean.

His train of thought was broken as Roderich and Elizabeta entered carrying trays laden with the starter for the meal. He blinked in surprise as the plate, filled with some sort of prawns and salad, was set before him. They usually only had a main meal and dessert however, it was also not often that their Grandfather ate with them. Lovino was not used to his presence by his elbow and the eyes that followed his every movement, it was off putting but thankfully not as much as Antonio's face at all the food. It was like the man had never ate for goodness sake. His eyes were lit up with the same gleam they had when he had seen all the cakes and he stared at it in childish wonder before beginning.

"Did you quit your job today Lovino?" His Grandfather questioned when they had all started eating, his eyes fixed on his plate before him in a casual manner.

He had not realised that it needed to be done so soon. The hairs on the back of his neck rose slightly at the set of the older man's shoulders and the tension in his face.

"No Grandpa not yet," He saw Roma's mouth draw into a thin line and he hastened to add, "but I will do tomorrow. I slept in late today. I'm sorry."

When his Grandfather looked up a large indulgent smile was painted onto his features.

"I am anxious for you to begin work Lovi," he crooned. "Very anxious. Please quit tomorrow so we may begin the day after. Do not keep me waiting."

"Yes sir." He mumbled looking back into his plate, not feeling so hungry any more. Through his lashes he thought he could see Antonio staring at their conversation with an odd expression.

Nosey bastard, he thought furiously and he stabbed the food with a little too much force, stupid Spanish-

"Tell me Antonio," His Grandfather continued turning to him as though nothing was wrong. "Did you have any time to think about my proposition?"

The Spaniard in question looked back at the head of the table as though his attention had never diverged, the calm lopsided grin back in position. He reached up to scratch his head again, the movement brought a twinge of irritation to Lovino's stomach.

"As a matter of fact I did Mr Vargas. I have decided to accept."

A genuine pleased smile spread on his Grandfather's face for a second. It had a dark unpleasant edge to it that Lovino would not have noticed if he hadn't already been looking at him. It chilled him slightly.

"What proposition is this Grandpa?" Feliciano asked curiously, a fork dangling from his mouth. If that had been Lovino he would have been scolded but as his dopey little brother he got away with it. His amber eyes were large and curious but not innocent, Lovino could see that he too had noticed his Grandfather's grin. The grin he only used when one of his deals had gone his way. To see it at the dinner table was disturbing.

"I have already breached the subject of bodyguards to you Feli, I have decided to go ahead with it. It seems my only option if I wish to protect you boys from my ah- _enemies_." His Grandfather entwined his fingers together and leant on his elbows as he gazed at the table in general, his eyes calculating. "Ludwig has already agreed to be yours my dear and Antonio-"

No, no, please no-

"Will work with Lovino."

Feliciano face must have mirrored his own Lovino felt, a mixture of shock and horror although he doubted they had the same reasons. He did not want a bodyguard, he did not want someone following him and looking after him. He could look after himself well enough. And he especially did not want Antonio.

"I assure you both that they will make the most excellent guards." Roma continued, interpreting the looks on their faces. "Ludwig has been in training for the past year-"

"But he is Viktor's grandson, of course he'll have training." Lovino struggled to keep the tremble out of his voice. He could not allow this man to be his bodyguard. "Antonio doesn't have this training and I don't-"

"Do not interrupt me Lovino!" Roma snapped dangerously turning to face him, his face furious. He flinched. "Do you not think I would want to protect you? I made sure to hand pick a man for you that would care for you as I would myself; this is that man. He is honest and loyal and most of all has had more than enough training to look after you."

"But-"

"No!" His Grandfather's hand flash out like a viper and grabbed his wrist, pulling him in towards him. He was squeezing it hard enough to make Lovino try to retract it, but it was stuck hard in his grasp. They were close enough that he could see every line on his ageing face and the fine stubble along his jaw. "I am doing this for you Lovino, you and your brother. Why do you have to be so ignorant all the time? This is to protect you from being hurt again, can't you see? Do you not trust my judgement?"

His hand was tight on his wrist, Lovino wanted to cry out but he knew that that would only be taken as another protest. He tired to stare out the older man but the sheer power of his dark gaze forced his will to break. He took a shaky breath and looked down with a slight nod.

His Grandpa removed his hand slowly, replacing it on his shoulder and moved it in a light rubbing motion.

"Poor Lovi, so confused and scared." His voice was soft, almost sincere. "You will soon see I have made the right choice for you."

He nodded again and turned back to his plate as Roderich and Elzabeta came in with the main course, a pasta dish. Lovino felt sick to his stomach and only picked at the food set before him. He felt Antonio's gaze on him burning like the sun. He could not look at him.

"I guess we'll be spending more time together then Ludwig," Feliciano said quickly trying to lighten the mood. His happy tone seemed forced. "It should be fun."

"Yes," came the blond's deep reply. The rest of the meal passed in a tense silence, everyone staring down at their plate apart from Roma who smiled largely at everyone with a pleased expression on his face. Lovino found it hard to eat the food in front of him, it seemed so tasteless to his mouth but he chewed and swallowed because his Grandfather would be mad if he didn't.

What should he care if the annoying jerk became his bodyguard? So what? At least it was someone he knew rather than some guy he didn't and would never like. Not that he liked Antonio of course. Not at all. But some part of this arrangement did not sit right within him, a funny knot sat in his stomach at the thought.

When the meal was over and the desserts eaten Lovino and the others stood to take their leave.

"I have had your belongings taken up to your rooms boys," Roma said before they could rush off. Lovino froze before he realised with a jolt of horror that he was actually talking to Antonio and Ludwig.

"They're going to live here?" Feliciano said, getting there before his brother could ask. His Grandfather nodded.

"Of course, how else are they meant to be your bodyguards if they can't be with you? They will take the empty rooms beside yours. It was high time they were used anyway."

Lovino felt his day could not get any worse. First he had to have a stupid bodyguard and now he had to live in the same house as him, in the next room in fact. Without another word he sped from the room with the intention of going straight to bed and praying out it was all just some horrible dream in the morning when Antonio' voice rang up the stares.

"Lovino! Wait!"

He paused with his foot in mid air, hovering above the next step. Gritting his teeth he turned to find his new bodyguard looking up at him with wide, green eyes. Grudgingly he went down the few steps he had managed so he was stood closer.

"What?" He demanded, feeling the annoyance rise already.

"I wanted to assure you that I will try my best to do the best job I can for you." Antonio declared with a passionate look in his eye. For once he was not smiling, his face serious. "That if you need anything all you have to do is ask."

"You're meant to be my bodyguard, not my butler." His cheeks flared a little at his statement. "That's what Roderich is for-"

"But it is my duty to serve you." He objected, he moved a step upwards so that they were closer. "I know we didn't exactly get off on the right foot earlier. That was my fault, I was-"

"Just being a nuisance." Lovino finished. He took a step back, hoping that his expression would be enough to push him away. Maybe if he was horrible he would leave, or better yet quit. "Your presence here gives me a headache _Mr Carriedo_. I am grateful you saved my life but I don't want a bodyguard, I am only taking you because my Grandpa insists."

"I know," he said simply. Lovino was not sure what he was meant to say to that.

"Goodnight." He snapped choosing not to think of a reply, and opting instead to go to bed away from the madness that was his stupid life.

oOo

**So yeah it sucked I know :/**  
><strong>Please review if you agree or think otherwise, it's important for me to get feedback for this :)<strong>

**Next chapter sees the back story of some characters that haven't appeared yet :) Stay tuned!**

**HAPPY HOLIDAYS! Hasta la pasta my loves~**


	7. Fading Dragon

**HIIIYYA~ Hope you all had a nice Christmas :) I did! Back to the hard grind now though.**  
><strong>It's nearly midnight here but I went out for a mates birthday and am wide awake x_x<strong>

**So chapter 7... I like this chapter :') I enjoyed looking up chinese furniture :L **  
><strong>Best part on Sims is making the houses can't lie :) My usual beta says this is the sign of a real writer. I think it's the sign of a person who has too much time on their hands.<strong>  
><strong>This was beta'd by my boyfriend. He hates fanfiction but he likes this oddly enough : but he's better at spotting mistakes so thanks to him :D**

**Hetalia isn't mine (apart from my playing cards, dvd's and keyrings :B They are all mine.)**

**Enjoyyy~**

oOo

Kiku Honda walked swiftly down the darkened street, his impassive face aimed at the floor as he watched each foot proceed the other with deliberation.

The hour was late but the back roads of the city were not as empty as he would have liked them to be. A few individuals were making their ways home in the light of the street lamps, their forms appearing under the light briefly before disappearing into darkness. In the dismal industrial area that he was in the people were consumed by their surrounding, they were as murky and as unforgiving as the stinking waters of the river that flowed only a block away. A few unsavoury characters eyed him viciously as they lingered in factory doorways, taking in the image of his pressed shirt and immaculate white suit as if calculating their worth. However as they took in his strangely opaque eyes they seemed to reconsider robbing him and sulked off back into the shadows from whence they came.

Despite the heavy briefcase he held in one hand he carried himself with ease, the muscles of his hands straining against the dead weight. Kiku barely seemed to register it as a burden. He stopped at a junction and looked up at the sign on the street lamp, then back at the letter clutched in his free hand. Silently as a ghost he turned left, his eyes counting the buildings he passed. He stopped suddenly at the fifth one, a shabby warehouse type structure with a small door that lead out onto the alley next to it.

He placed his briefcase on the floor and reached into his pocket, drawing out an ornate silver lighter which he used to burn the note in his hand without even blinking. Once his job was done, he took up his briefcase again and headed towards the door. It had a light over the top so that he was able to clearly see the bright red colour and golden rapper in the shape of a dragon's roaring head. He knocked, the sound clearly audible throughout the building, and then he waited.

Soon there was the sound of footsteps and the door opened a crack, a golden face peering out suspiciously.

"What do you want?" They asked. Their voice was female and soft as if afraid to speak too loudly. Kiku bowed low.

"My name is Kiku Honda." He explained as he straightened up. "Mr Wang is expecting me."

The door opened a fraction more so that Kiku could see the speaker. She had long hair pulled back at the sides with flowers and large expressive eyes which seemed to be clouded with worry. She wore a traditional qipao of black and red, modified into a more modern style by lace at the cuffs. Kiku had not seen clothes like it since he had arrived in America a few years ago, back when his mother had worn them when she was still alive. The sight brought a sudden shock to his system, revealed only by a slight widening of his eyes.

"Expecting you?" She said quietly her tone confused, "He did not say there would be a visitor this afternoon..."

"He did not know the exact date of my arrival." He said matching her quiet tones with his own. Kiku did not shout often, it was in his nature to sit back and listen, he was more than happy to meet the girl on her level. "I have had to travel to get here and it was hard to find transport, but I am here now. Please may I come in?"

The girl did not look convinced but she moved to one side to allow his entrance. He walked in and stood in the hallway while she locked the door behind him. It was a long process as there seemed to be more than one. With a wary eye he glanced around and noted the security of the door and the barely concealed gun in the umbrella stand. He was right when he had believed his presence would be needed then. He made no comment but instead smiled slightly as she lead him down the corridor.

In contrast to the shabby exterior of the building, inside was quite neat and tidy. The hallway they were in was of a simple wooden design with matching furniture. The girl stopped him from going any farther outside a pair of double doors.

"Wait here while I inform Mr Wang you have arrived. Take a seat." She ordered, turning with a flick of hair and breezing through the doors without another word. He caught a glimpse of a large hallway before the doors closed.

Kiku seated himself on one of the chairs in the room to wait, placing his suitcase on the floor beside him. A flicker of gold caught his eye at the edge of his vision and he turned his head slightly to see a beautiful mural on the wall.

It was unlike any he had seen before, it showed the images of black shadow creatures curling in and out of golden clouds like mist. He did not know how the effect had been created but it was beautiful to behold. On further inspection he realised that the creatures were in fact Chinese dragons, their large heads decorated with beautiful coloured highlights that glittered in the light from above.

Kiku was so entranced in the art that he did not noticed the girl's return until she stood next to him. Her mouth was a line of worry but she bowed a little to him.

"Mr Wang will see you now, please follow me."

She took him along the corridor through the double doors. Kiku was suddenly overcome with red. The rich colour covered the walls of the large room and the floor was a perfect black tile that reflected his image back at him like distorted glass, he could only image the pain it must take to clean.

The room had large windows that overlooked the river behind the warehouse where the lights of the city reflected back like a sea of stars. A carved writing desk sat in front of one of these windows, possibly so that the worker could admire the view while working. The desk itself was kept very neat and orderly which enabled the viewer to truly absorb the beauty of the object. It had been carved in detailed shapes of flowers and clouds with an ornate bridge going across the front.

A small cough distracted him from the masterpiece and to the bed. The bed was as ornate as the desk, but more delicate, the wood spiralling up in flowing curls surrounding the occupant like a cage. The man in the bed was covered in quilts as he sat up on cushions, looking out at him with intelligent brown eyes.

"You look just like your mother Kiku," he said his voice surprisingly strong. "But I see you have inherited your father's cool expression and searching eyes."

He bowed. "He taught me very well, Sir."

"I would expect nothing less." He smiled and signalled for him to come closer, and then caught sight of the girl stood awkwardly by the door as if waiting for Kiku to leave. "It's alright Mei, I will call if I need anything."

"Yes Mr Wang." She nodded, glaring once at Kiku before turning and closing the door behind her with a little too much force so that it shook on it's hinges.

There was a moments pause as Mr Wang looked him over with a searching gaze, Kiku doing the same to the man before him. His hair was long and tied back from his almost feminine features but his look was hard and cool. Kiku's father had been friends with the Yao Wang since he had gone against his commander's orders and saved his life during the war. They had been in a prison cell together until it had ended.

They had kept in contact by frequent mail and Yao had been the best man at his father's wedding. To add to that he was also labelled his Godfather, they had never met but Kiku had been brought up hearing only great tales about the man before him.

He did not look much of course but that could have just been the illness. The reason why Kiku was there in the first place.

"How was your journey?" Yao asked, settling back into his cushions as Kiku came to stand by the side of the bed.

"Quite long Sir," he admitted wearily. "I had not realised how big America truly was until I had to cross half of it to get here. How are you feeling?"

"Today is one of my better days." There was a strained note to Yao's voice but he smiled warmly to Kiku like an old friend. "Please sit down, it's like you are standing watch over a corpse. I am not dead yet."

Feeling abashed Kiku did as he was told and sat in the seat offered, a comfortable red padded chair that didn't quite seem to fit with the other pieces of furniture in the room meaning it had taken residence at the bedside after being moved. Someone was sitting by the bedside often. A fine dust had settled on the paper that was on the desk suggesting that Yao did not leave the sanctuary of the bed much either. The thought made his face crease a little in worry before smoothing over again, becoming expressionless once more.

Yao sighed as he looked at him. "So your father has informed you of my ahh... situation?"

Of course he had. He had taken Kiku out of his art room and into his office to sit him down and discuss Mr Wang's poor luck. The man had lost half of his business to the law a few months back when one of his biggest smuggling jobs had been discovered, and stopped, by the police. After that he had fallen quite ill, he was unable to stand for long periods and seemed to catch every flu going. Wang had thought it was old age, his father thought maybe stress but Kiku had only worried about his Godfather, the Godfather he had never met but heard so much about. It had seemed such a shame for Kiku to not visit him, but when he had mentioned this to his father he had insisted that he not only visit but stay and work for him. Kiku had of course assented to his wishes and travelled the great distance in the hope that he would be some help to the sick man.

Kiku had an education so he was not an idiot, in fact he was well prepared for any tasks that Yao may set him, be it typing or book keeping. Yet Mr Wang would already have people working for him that would do these jobs. This meant he would have to do some other job, a job perhaps not as legal as he would like. But Kiku was resigned to do anything that Yao asked him to, for the honour of his family he would complete any and all tasks to the best of his ability, without question.

"He has Sir, in great detail." Unable to bow he nodded his head in respect. "I am willing to offer up my services in anyway that you may require."

Yao watched him for a while with a sad expression on his face before responding.

"You are indeed like your father, Kiku," he said. A far away look had entered his eyes, he seemed not to be looking at his features but at a man from long ago perhaps from across a battlefield of pain and suffering. "So honest and loyal. Please don't call me 'sir', everyone calls me sir. It makes me feel old...aru."

The last part was more of a sigh and Kiku was uncertain if he had actually heard it. It was against his nature to treat an older man as an equal but since Yao had ordered him he mumbled that he would try. The older man smiled happily, his head resting back against the pillows.

"Now, to business I suppose." He struggled to sit up properly for a moment. A brief war between body and will tugged out as he shuffled around but will soon triumphed and Yao sat up more straightly. He pulled his hands out from under the blankets and crossed them around his chest. His hands were pale and weak looking in the yellow lighting of the room but they were quickly hidden in the folds of his clothes before Kiku could get a proper look.

"What I need," Yao continued, not noticing his staring. "Is someone who can talk to the customers for me. My last barterer left me when the going got a little rough and the others just aren't cut out for the job. Mei would have been a good choice but no one wants to haggle with a woman."

The Chinese man's heavy, dark eyes weighed on him as he spoke.

"I need you to strike deals with people for our services. Certain groups will pay a high price for an easy shipment of goods, and some individuals will pay large sums for a signal item's passage. According to your father's letters you are very good at reading people. I need you to be able to see what they want while keeping in mind what I need you to do; make the highest price possible."

"I understand." Kiku said simply. He was being set to work as a haggler. Someone to set the price for the transportation and delivery of the goods, he was not actually smuggling but he was a key link in the chain. His job would be highly important to the cause. "I accept the job with pride si- I mean Yao. _Arigatō._"

"You are very welcome Kiku, I expect big things from you." The Chinese man smiled widely before suddenly doubling over in a coughing fit that made his whole body shake. It was so sudden that he froze. Kiku watched, his whole body seizing up as he didn't know what to do. He did not appear to be stopping. Should he give him a drink? Fetch someone?

As the thought appeared in his head and he was standing up to run out of the room, the doors opened and an unfamiliar face hurried in. It was not the girl from before, but a man with blond hair who was wearing-

Was that makeup?

"Oh Mr Wang, I told you to like, take it easy." The man tutted as if speaking to a child as he swayed towards the bed, waving his hips like a woman. Kiku flinched away from him as he rounded the bed. He was surprised he was not wearing a dress. The man had an accent that was hard to place, but his lazy eyes surrounded by eyeliner looked vaguely annoyed. He bustled around Yao, puffing up his pillows and handing him a glass of water which he supped at gratefully, his eyes seeping at the effort of coughing.

"I'm sorry Feliks," he mumbled but the man didn't seem impressed.

"And I bet you haven't like taken your medicines either, jeez." He pouted his cheeks puffing out, blusher and all. "You are totally making yourself worse Mr Wang."

Blushing a vivid crimson to match his walls, Yao looked under Feliks' arm with embarrassment as the man handed him some pill bottles from his beside table.

"Kiku, this is Feliks, my nurse." He introduced them with a wave of a hand. To his horror the blond turned around and looked him over before kissing him on both cheeks European style. He had to hold back a yell, instead the blood rose to his face horribly and he tensed up.

"Nice to like meet you!" Feliks tittered in a squeal. "You have got the most shiny hair ever. I am totally jealous!"

"Feliks comes highly recommended from a business partner of mine." Yao explained wearily as he swallowed a handful of pills. He shuddered once he had taken them, glancing up at him through one eye. "He does a very good job-"

"And I look fabulous too." He added brightly and in all seriousness. Kiku opened his mouth but found he had very little to say.

"Why don't you go to find Mei, Kiku?" Yao seemed to take pity on him. "Tell her to put you in the second bedroom for now. We will finish our talk another time. You must be tired right?"

He was, and also more than happy to escape from the strange man who was too far in his personal space than he would have liked. He bowed low once and picked up his bag to leave.

"_Oyasumi_, Yao." Kiku said, scurrying away before Feliks could stroke his head or worse.

"_Dào wǎn'ān_ Kiku," Yao replied sleepily as he left the room, tiredly slipping back into the pillows once more. "Sleep well my boy."

oOo

**If anyone would like to see the bed and desk from the chapter I'm posting links on my page :)**  
><strong>The mural I made up myself :L<strong>

**Hope this chapter went well! How will Japan and China fit into the story? And what the hell is Poland doing there? **  
><strong>Reviews please guys :D Thank you to all those that have already and alerted the story! Special thanks to the people who told me off last time for being hard on myself :') Thanks guys means a lot! 3 Internet loves!<strong>

**I'll try and do chapter 8 asap but 3000 words for ONE of FIVE essays is going to kill my brain -_- why can't holidays last forever? Urghhh...**

**Hasta la pasta~**


	8. We're off to see the Frenchman

**I'm baaacckkk~**  
><strong>It feels like it's been a while. I had such writers block for this chapter it is unreal and for some reason it was just THIS chapter o_o because I started chapter 9 fine. Thanks to my fabulous beta who told me to carry on and that it didn't suck :')<strong>  
><strong>YES THIS IS A FILLER. But hopefull a good filler. We get to know Antonio a little more and hear about his past :)<strong>

**Sorry I didn't reply to the reviews this week guys! I was really busy and forgot :/ Thanks to everyone who did and the new followers :D**  
><strong>Internet love :3<strong>

**GOT SOME NEWS AT THE END OF THE CHAPTER! REEAAADDD ITT! :3**

**Enjoyyyy~**

oOo

It was not one of Lovino's better days.

There he was on his way to quit his job, walking the streets of the city with Antonio in tow. The sun was shining brightly and the city was alive with people going about their daily business. It was a warm summers day and the heat was a little oppressive and expectant, they had not had rain for a long time and a thunderstorm was more than due. The flowers in the window boxes he passed were wilted and drooping in the heat.

A foul mood brooded within him. The sight of the sad flowers made him more irritable than he already was, as he knew he would most likely have to deal with a very angry Frenchman yelling at him for the mess he had made the other day. The heat made him touchy too and walking all the way across town was pain in the neck especially when he was covered in injuries that still hurt. His Grandfather had taken the car out on business so he was stuck with walking. They could have taken the bus but he was not in the mood for crowds either.

Lovino could feel the frustration building made worse by the figure of Antonio wandering beside him with a expression on his face that made him look like some sort of village idiot. He kept pointing at things for him to look at which he refused point blank to do. Then he laughed at him.

Then called him 'Lovi'.

Again and again.

"Look Lovi!" He said louder than usual, touching him on the arm lightly as they passed a greengrocers. Despite himself he glanced towards the shop that he was pointing to where a large basket of tomatoes glinted in the sun outside looking ripe and edible. "They look just like you!"

Gritting his teeth in anger he strode onwards saying nothing, praying for some divine force to drop something large and heavy on his stupid bodyguard so he'd have rid of him for good.

Glancing sideways at the idiot in question he wondered how he had managed to get himself lumbered with such an annoying companion. Feliciano had it easy; Ludwig might be a weird, socially inept potato eater but at least he didn't speak. Antonio on the other hand did not seem to shut up. What use would he be as a bodyguard he despaired, when he was being a moron and pointing to stupid things like a basket of daisies? Or relating his charge to a basket of fruit?

Then there was that constant smile. He was attracting stares from the people on the street he was so unusually cheerful. Although they people could have been staring at the barely concealed gun in his jacket pocket that swung around dangerously as he waved his hands around to explain a point.

God. What a bumpkin.

"Look, Mr Carriedo," Lovino said, eventually snapping and stopping dead in the middle of the street, so suddenly that Antonio wandered into him. He tried not to scream clenching his fists tightly instead. Deep breaths, he reminded himself, deep breaths."It would be better for you to return back to the apartment. I can go to drop my stuff off alone, it's no trouble."

"But it's my job to protect you." He argued, he looked put off like he had offended him. "I get paid to follow you, not to sit at home. Those men know where you work Lovi and-"

"Stop. Calling. Me. Lovi." He snarled. Of course he was right, it didn't mean he had to like it. He wanted to punch the idiot in the guts but held himself back."You want to be my bodyguard? Then shut up and address me properly."

Antonio looked down at him and something visibly died in his eyes, some spark snuffed out like it had never existed. He was a head taller and quite broad in comparison but he didn't seem imposing as he stared down at him. He just seemed sad.

"Yes sir." He conceded after a long pause. He bowed his head a little. "Whatever you like, Mr Vargas. I will be quiet."

Lovino had not expected him to give in so easily, his purpose in life seemed to be to taunt him. He had expected another argument. He was surprised to find himself feeling as miserable as Antonio looked; even though he had agreed to keep his mouth closed. What was wrong with him?

Damn it he did not want the hassle of a bodyguard.

"Good," he spat, not really feeling it and walked onward. Words tumbled from his mouth before he could stop them. "I don't know how you managed to become my bodyguard but you have obviously not been trained enough. I'm in half a mind to tell my Grandfather you have lied about your training."

Of course he wouldn't do it. It was an empty threat but Antonio rushed to defend himself.

"I do have adequate training, Sir." The formal address did not sit right on the man's tongue and Lovino found himself momentarily regretting his orders. Then he remembered how much he hated 'Lovi' and felt better. The Spaniard was quickly reverting back to his usual happy self and he rambled on. "I worked as a security guard in Madrid for a many years, since then I have taken other odd jobs. I assure you I am more than up to the task, you will be safe with me. If that car had made any moves-"

"What car?" Lovino stopped again. What was he on about? He had seen no usual vehicles around, no more than usual on a busy street. Feeling paranoid he scanned each car as it passed.

"It's gone now." Antonio said jolly as always. "They followed us from your house and for a little while after that. I think they were just spying on us, to see how much damage they had done. They did not seem to want to be close to you with me there."

Lovino stared into his green eyes and saw no lie in them. His heart flew into his mouth and he swallowed hard. It seemed that the Russian's knew where he lived. They could come after him at any time, come after his brother too.

How could he protect him if he didn't even see them? He should have been paying more attention. Hadn't the beating been a big enough sign that he was no longer safe? That he should watch the world around him instead of being in his own little bubble?

Antonio touched his arm lightly and steered him onwards as they had stopped in the middle on the path and people were crossly muttering at the blockage. His feet answered to the movement but his mind took a while to catch up. When it did he swiped the hand from his arm like it was an irritating fly.

But he now felt guilty, he had been too judgemental. Maybe Antonio wasn't as much of an idiot as he seemed, he was attentive enough to notice things that even he hadn't spotted. One day that could save his life.

"Mr Vargas," the bodyguard spoke softly in his ear. "Are you okay?"

He resisted the urge to role his eyes. The Russian's were after him, he was quitting his job and going to work for his Grandfather's empire. He was just peachy.

But Antonio was worried. He was a kind man, despite his obnoxious nature. And he would have to put up with him. He needed a bodyguard as much as he didn't want one; he would just have to do.

"I'm as good as can be expected in the circumstances." Lovino said faintly. His hand that was not in the sling clutched onto the uniform package to his chest. "Let's just hurry up and get back Antonio-"

Damn it, he cursed inwardly.

The Spaniard chuckled at his side. "So it's fine for you to address me with my first name but not for me to call you by yours?"

"You call me Lovi," he snapped his face reddening. Why had he said that? Why? "If you want to call me by my name call me Lovino, not Lovi bastard."

"Lovino..." Antonio mused thoughtfully, his eyebrows raised into his hair line as if shocked at even contemplating using the correct name. At least he said it right, the others who used his name usually did not even notice the minor accent but due to his Spanish upbringing the name sounded more like a purr in his mouth. "I suppose it'll have to do. But I still prefer Lovi."

Resisting the urge to punch something, or someone, Lovino growled. Today was going to be a bad day. He really did not want to quit his job but he knew he must. If he didn't his Grandfather would be mad and he did not want to annoy him further.

"Lovino?" Antonio asked quietly. He did not realise he had been quiet for a long time as he mused. "Is something wrong?"

"No."

"Are you sure? You're holding onto that uniform pretty tightly." He said with a cautious smile in his direction as if he was unstable. He loosened his hands.

"I'm fine, I'm just dreading Francis. He's going to be so pissed with me." He lied quickly. In reality he was dreading turning his back on the place he had grown to love. He'd miss everything about it, even Alred. Okay maybe not Alfred.

Antonio eyed him thoughtfully as he tucked his hands into his pockets and stared up into the sky.

"So tell me, _boss_." He smirked at the name, the little sarcastic lilt to the title making Lovino scowl darkly. "You have all that money with your fancy house and family business but you chose to work in an ice cream shop of all places. Why?"

"None of your business, bastard."

"Oh come on," Antonio pleaded, turning to face him with a small pout. His eyes were like a puppy's and Lovino tried to avoid his gaze but failed miserably. He groaned in frustration.

"I work there because it's not home, okay?" Lovino said stiff faced. He did not want to be having this conversation right now, the moment before he was quitting his job. It just reminded him of what he was losing. "I like to get out of there and do something rather than sitting on my _fancy_ ass all day you jerk."

"I wish that was all I wanted to work for," Antonio chuckled. Lovino was reminded of his impoverished demeanour and felt bad. He had forgotten for a moment that his bodyguard was not well off, maybe even very poor. While it was true he didn't want to work for the family business he was glad for the security of the money it brought. He could not imagine what life would be like to not know where your next meal was coming from, if it ever came at all.

"So what were your previous jobs like?" He asked lightly, attempting to be civil to make up for his rudeness. Antonio raised an eyebrow and smiled but didn't comment on it, the opportunity to babble on proving to great for him to resist.

"Well I had never liked work as such, I was much more concerned with relaxing and helping out on my Father's farm." Was he meant to be surprised at that bombshell? "But one thing led to another and I ended up training to be a security guard, I had to move away from my family in the country to the city."

"That must have been tough." He mumbled. He had never spent any time away from home, never mind his family. The thought made him squirm.

"Not really!" Antonio beamed, his smile brighter than the sunlight. "It was like a big adventure, sí? I eventually got a job looking after these silly French paintings in a museum which paid pretty well. But it was boring so after that I decided to work in a bank."

He laughed at a memory.

"There was this one time I helped a little boy find his mother," He explained, his eyes lighting up at the tale. For some reason Lovino did not find himself bored, the stories were taking his mind off things and it was interesting to get to know him. Not that he would tell him that; he kept a cool scowl on his face. "She turned out to be some sort of billionaires wife. She asked if I wanted anything but I said no, that I had just done my job. Money is good but it is not the most_ importante_ thing in life."

"Ooh and then there was that other time," he continued before Lovino could comment. "These armed robbers came into the bank! They intended to take all of the money from the place and would kill all the workers to take it, I was not going to accept that lying down! I stood up straight and told the man to leave. He just laughed but then I grabbed him like this-"

He stopped to re-enact some deadly battle sequence. It looked pretty full on and Lovino tried not to look impressed. Antonio must have been very brave to have taken on armed robbers, just as he had been brave to save him the other night. He wasn't sure whether or not it was blind stupidity in the face of danger but his actions were still commendable.

"So you've worked in a bank and an art gallery?" He asked when he had finished showing what had happened with the robbers. Antonio looked up at him in mild shock as if he had not expected him to be still stood there or even paying attention. He ruffled up his hair with a smile.

"Some other stuff too." He admitted as they resumed their previous pace. "I managed to get a job working on a ship which brought me here. No guarding, just manual labour. Helping out with the ship and such but it gave me passage to live here and find a new position."

Which he had. Lovino felt a bubble of something in his stomach, it took him a while to see it as guilt. He had been terrible to Antonio. Of course the man deserved to work for the family if he wanted, he shouldn't let his temper take hold of him all the time. He would try to be civil if nothing else. He owed Antonio that much.

"I hope you enjoy it." He said curtly. Antonio threw his arm around his shoulder with a laugh. He tensed up at the sudden close contact, damn it why did he have to be so touchy-feely all the time?

"I know I will!" He smiled, winking at him with one brilliant green eye. "I have you with me, Lovi!"

This time he did not hold back the punch, hitting him squarely in the guts which earned a satisfying 'oooft' sound from his bodyguard. But he was surprised to find himself smiling: his mind taken off quitting his job which he realised was exactly what Antonio wanted. The bastard.

oOo

**See Lovi- he's not an ass :')**  
><strong>Hope you liked this chapter. It's not one of my favourites I must say but it turned out better after I'd been yelled at :L<strong>  
><strong>Should get chapter 9 up at some point. Essays are still here :| They don't seem to want to go away. Urghhh.<strong>

**.NEWS.**  
><strong>I have decided that since this is my first story to ever go really well and to get more than one or two reviews (seriously love you guys ;_;) I am going to give the 50th REVIEWER a one shot of their choice (based on a word propt or something). I know it's quite far away but I'll post it now so you all know and can see it :D<strong>

**YAY one shots! :3 get reviewing ;D it has been commanded!**


	9. The Dinner Ticket

**Another chapter :) Went to sleep at a friend's last night and I'm exhausted. Still I tried to do work and this, no beta either seeing as I didn't have too much trouble with this one :P ****Sorry if there's any mistakes anyway!**

**ALERT**  
><strong>The oneshot for 50 reviews is still on :D Just a reminder! :L 50th reviewer gets a oneshot of their choice! :)<br>**

**Thank you to everyone who added this and reviewed last time :D I got some really good feedback! Hope you like this chapter too, not as much of a filler as last time but it's leading up to an important scene :) enjoy~**

**Hetalia isn't mine :/ sadtimes.  
><strong>

oOo

The bell above the door rattled with a familiar and comforting tinkle as Lovino stepped into the shop, clutching his uniform to his chest. He had opted to use the customer entrance in the hope that Francis wouldn't shout at him as much in the presence of all the people. This plan had its merits in that the place was full, especially with the warm summer they were having, it was buzzing with activity and a queue had formed. All the tables were full and he waited patiently for the line to go down so he could reach the counter.

He sighed and thanked his own foresight in telling Antonio to stand at the front of the shop to watch the door, there would have been no room in the tiny shop and he did not need anyone to see him with a bodyguard. Too many questions.

Not that the idiot in question hadn't tried to come in, he only agreed to stand outside after scouting the area for the Russian's car first. If it had been anywhere close he would assume they were hiding in the shop ready to ambush him. Lovino was fine with him being cautious and saw the reason but it did not stop him from being irritated. He wasn't sure which Antonio he preferred more, the overly cheerful or the one that was overly serious about his welfare.

The line moved down and he approached the counter. The customers stared openly as his battered face and sling, probably wondering what had happened to him to get him into that state. To them he must have looked like some miscreant that had been in a fight. Most looked nervous as though they expected him to start another fight; he ignored them.

As he edged closer to the counter he saw that both Alfred and Matthew were working. Alfred's younger brother worked at the shop sometimes, lending a hand whenever they were busy and he was not piled down with school work. Matthew was a withdrawn young man and in Feliciano's year at school, Lovino never spoke to him much but he appreciated his quietness and kind nature in contrast to Alfred. In fact it had been through Matthew that he had got the job.

The brothers seemed to clap eyes on him in the same moment. Matthew's violet eyes widened behind his wire glasses and Alfred's mouth opened comically. Trying to ignore the creeping blush rising in his face at their stares, Lovino placed his uniform on the counter.

"Is Francis here?" He asked trying to keep his voice steady. Why wouldn't they stop staring damn it, he didn't look that bad did he?

"I'll fetch papa," The younger boy said hurriedly with a final worried glance before dashing off through the to the back room, his feet audibly rushing up the stairs. The customers in the queue coughed impatiently and Alfred finally closed his mouth and served them quickly.

They were gone a moment later and the boy had rounded upon him with an eager expression.

"Oh my god, what the hell happened to you?" He demanded loudly, rounding the counter and making all the customers stare. Lovino scowled and opened his mouth to tell him to mind his own business when the pounding sound of footsteps signalled Francis' arrival. If that wasn't sign enough the shouting in French was a big give away.

"_O__ù__ est ce gar__ç__on?_" He yelled as stomped his way down the stairs. Lovino imaged his golden hair flying around in an artful display while his hands flapped in the air. "_Je vais le tuer-_"

"_Papa d'attendre!_" Matthew cried at the same moment they burst into the shop. Lovino was pleased to find that the image he had created was not only correct but completed with the addition of a red face and a flowered silk dressing gown over stylish pyjamas. He held back his laugh as Francis stopped dead and his eyes widened in a similar reaction to his son.

"_Mon dieu_," He hissed then finally seemed to take in the full image of the store, full of people staring open mouthed at the display. He signalled wordlessly for Lovino to follow him into the back room which he did after a moments hesitation. Antonio's silhouette could still be seen through the glass door, he had said he would only be a second but he was sure he would understand. It was only a chat with his boss after all.

He walked around the till and into the small room, getting annoyed when Alfred followed him. Francis did not seemed pleased either but let him in, shutting the door behind him.

"Are you going to explain to me what 'appened?" Francis demanded facing him with his arms crossed, trying to look intimidating and failing in his fancy pyjamas. Lovino sighed.

"I got beat up a little that's all," he explained warily avoiding his eye, focusing instead on a point by his head. "Nothing to fuss about-"

"You look like someone put you in a blender." Alfred grinned, looking excited. The older man scowled.

"As much as I 'ate to agree with 'im, Alfred iz right." Francis sniffed hard through his nose and his eyes softened, their blue orbs taking in his figure with a critical eye. "You look terrible, what 'appened? You were fine when we left."

"They got me in the alley, I think they were after my wallet but I didn't have it on me." He shrugged. He did not feel bad about the lie because they did not need to be involved any more than they already were. They knew where he worked; hopefully they would not come back here. He had lied to them before too, they knew nothing of his real life away from the shop apart from the fact he lived with his Grandfather and brother. They believed he needed the job for the money and had never asked about his background, Lovino was never very forthcoming with information and only Alfred dared pry into his personal life.

"Anyway, my uniform is on the counter so-"

"You're quitting?" Alfred's eyes widened in shock. He looked between him and Francis as though begging the older man to stop him. "You can't!"

"I have been sacked." He corrected with an even stare at the blond. Francis pulled a face like he had just had to suck on a lemon and he sniffed hard again.

"Alfred, out." He ordered. The boy opened his mouth to argue but he cut across him. "Go and 'elp Matthew with ze store. Now."

With a pout to rival Antonio's he turned on his heel and stormed from the room, slamming the door as though it had done personal damage to him. Shaking his head so that his hair wafted brilliantly around his features the blond turned to Lovino.

"I did not realise what 'ad 'appened ze other night, Lovino." Francis very rarely used his first name and his eyes widened in shock. "I was in ze wrong, I jumped to a conclusion I should not 'ave. You are welcome to 'ave your job back."

There it was. His job given back to him on a silver platter, looking as tempting as a roast dinner to a starving man. It took all his will power to answer, his throat suddenly seizing up.

"No." He said licking his lips. "I-I can't. I'm working in the family business now. I'm sorry I have to decline."

For a long moment Francis said nothing to him merely staring down at him with his arms folded like he did not know how to approach an answer. He fixed his own gaze to the floor to avoid looking at him.

"Did your Grandfather find out you were working here?"

"No he knew-" Wait a second. His gaze flicked back up quickly. Francis' face was frozen in a questioning expression, one eyebrow raised elegantly. He was not shocked or displeased. Suddenly something clicked in his head: Francis knew he was not poor.

"You knew?" He gasped, a thousand questions tumbling into his head but he only managed to work his mouth around the one. "How?"

"Of course I knew!" Francis scoffed with a wave of his hand as if to dismiss his words. "My dear, I am _French_. I would be an embarrassment to my country if I could not tell that your clothes were ze finest quality. Zey were too well made to be ze clothes of a pauper."

Lovino gazed at him open mouthed feeling as shocked as Francis had looked when he had seen his injuries. So he could tell everything because of the clothes he wore?

When did that even begin to make any damn sense?

"And zen zere was ze first payday." He continued, a smug smile curving onto his lips at the reaction he had received. "Usually when I pay someone they look thankful, another meal on the table and all that. You; you looked pleased."

Lovino remembered that day. Grandpa Roma had found out he had taken the job and disapproved. He had gone to work feeling miserable but as soon as that money was handed over he felt something else. For the first time in his life he had earned his own cash, his own money for his own stuff. He felt proud that he had done something for himself and he hadn't broken the law for it either.

"It does not take a genius to put two and two together and make four, Lovino." He said when he did not speak. "You don't speak about your family often, but I know you 'ave your Grandfather. I assume 'e would not be pleased that 'is eldest grandson works in a shop. Did 'e beat you?"

"What? No!" Lovino shook his head quickly. "No, I honestly was mugged in the back alley! My Grandfather doesn't want me working here any more because he'd prefer to keep me closer and give me a proper job. That's all."

Francis did not look convinced, his eyebrows draw together gracefully over his blue eyes.

"I 'ave to ask you." He excused himself lightly. His foot, Lovino noticed, was tapping out an agitated rhythm on the floor. "You are a good boy Lovino, a little temperamental, but a good boy. I would 'ate to see you beaten just for wanting something your Grandfather does not."

"It's not like that Francis," he assured him. He felt touched that his ex-Boss cared so much. He had thought he didn't give a damn but he was wrong. His words struck a chord somewhere in him and he found himself trying to smile as if to lull his own misgivings. He had hit the nail on the head without even seeing it. "But thank you."

Lovino held out his hand for the man to shake. They would part on good terms if it killed him. Francis smiled warmly for possibly the first time ever and took his hand in his own slim one.

"I feel terrible!" He sighed dramatically as they let go and turned to leave the small back room. He paused with his hand on the doorknob. "I thought you had made all the mess on purpose! If only zere was some way to make it up to you-"

He opened the door and a body fell in, startling them enough that they moved back out of the way and it hit the floor with a crash. They looked down to their feet with similar looks of disgust to see Alfred nursing a red nose. He had obviously been listening at the keyhole like a child. By the counter Matthew rolled his eyes trying to hide a smirk as he served a customer.

"Alfred!" Francis scolded loudly as the boy pulled himself back to his feet. "What do you think you are doing?"

"You wouldn't let me stay." He grumbled in response as though this was a valid explanation to his eavesdropping. He had gone crossed eyed in an attempt to see if the end of his nose was bruised and he looked quite ridiculous. Lovino was not surprised to see the Frenchman's face contort in annoyance.

"Zat does not give you the right to listen at doors! _Rat sournois_!" He cursed, flapping his arms in the air. Whatever he had said in French made Matthew giggle but Alfred, who obviously knew enough French to fit on a postage stamp, pulled a face in response.

Lovino couldn't help it; the look on their faces was priceless. For the first time in a few days he laughed, at first it felt foreign in his mouth but it soon escalated. And it was catching, soon they were all giggling apart from Alfred who scowled furiously, only increasing the laughter.

"_Mon dieu_!" Francis cried wiping a tear of laughter from the corner of his eye. He turned to Lovino with a smile. "I 'ave just had a thought. You will join us for dinner tonight _non_? To make up for ze 'orrible thoughts I 'ad about you."

He froze suddenly, not laughing any more."I don't know-"

"Please, it would be my pleasure. And I am an excellent cook."

That was not the problem. The problem was that he would not be allowed, he had to stay home with his Grandfather and eat with the family. And then there was Antonio, even if he could get away he would not be allowed alone and he couldn't just bring another man with him. While Francis knew he was well off he didn't know by how much, and he would never know either.

But something drew him to this ordinary family that had accepted him even though they knew he didn't need the money. He was sad to go, this would be that last time he saw any of them. What would be the harm in just one night?

"Sure," He replied, his mind already working out a plan to get him away from the house. "What time do you want me?"

oOo

The room was dark and poorly lit, the curtains at the windows were thrown open in a desperate attempt to let in the light but even then it seemed to refuse to illuminate the room as though light was being rejected from that space. On one wall were two small windows surrounding a larger bay window which looked out onto the street some two floors below. It was deadly silent in the room, the only sound being the loud mournful tick of the grandfather clock as it counted down the seconds of the day.

Ivan's lip curled pleasantly at Toris who sat opposite him, a chessboard in mid play set out before them. His lackey was for once calm in the presence of his boss as his eyes focused on the game, the cogs of his mind whirring away as he figured out his next move.

There was a brisk knock at the door. None of the rooms occupants looked up.

"Enter," Ivan called cheerfully. The door opened and the two woman, Natalia and Katyusha, breezed in followed by a stoic faced Eduard, his eyes tired behind his glasses. Their boss smiled into the game. "Well?"

"Roma has acquired bodyguards for both boys." Natalia answered, her voice was cold as ice and her eyes were hungry as she searched the man's face. Ivan was in fact her younger half brother but the look in her eyes was almost longing. "The eldest is in quite a mess but seems unharmed by the attacks. His guard is a little young but he's well trained. He noticed the car straight away."

Ivan hummed under his breath at her words, still not looking up from the board; his large hand was curved under his nose, resting on his lips. His shoulders were hunched over his bulky frame.

"One on Roma's men visited the house earlier today, one of the more shady sorts." She continued, knowing exactly what her brother wanted to hear. "It is likely they are planning something together but will probably wait before striking."

"What shall we do?" Katyusha asked. Her voice was low and thin, her eyes watery. She was Ivan's first sister and quite a few years older than him, by now she was used to his moods and her voice suggested she was reading for any reaction whether anger or happiness.

Ivan sighed, reaching forward a hand to move his piece from the board: a white marble queen. He twiddled it in his fingers as he answered.

"We wait." He said calmly, his eyes on the chess-piece. Toris too stared at the piece in his hand as though fearing that in would end up embedded in the board rather than on it. "I have made my move, it is now Roma's turn. Let him plan, I will be ready for him."

"Gilbert!" He spoke up suddenly, louder than before. The other's gazes flipped to the large bay window where there were two people whose presence had previously gone unnoticed. One, a man, had his legs up on the seat casually and a cigarette hanging from one lax hand. The smoke was leaving through an small crack in the window, the breeze stirring the pale hair on his head. The other figure was a young boy, stood like a statue next to the man as if awaiting orders. His hair was a bright blond, too vibrant to be a natural shade, it curled artfully around his petite face under a layer of styling cream.

"When is our next shipment coming through?" Ivan demanded. The man, Gilbert, turned his head slightly to look at him. His eyes were an odd shade lying between blue and brown that in the poor light almost looked red. A smirk crack on his pale face.

"The day after tomorrow." He answered lightly. Out of everyone in the room he was the most at ease in the Russian's presence and Ivan seemed to notice this. His face was a mask of dislike and annoyance.

"See to it you oversee the process yourself." He said turning his face back to the game. "Roma is a sneaky bastard. He may try something with the shipment as repayment for damaging his little heir. Try to see that nothing goes wrong."

Gilbert laughed easily. "Sure boss, whatever you say."

Ivan pursed his lips at the lack of respect in the man's voice. His expression turned dark and formidable.

"Gilbert, do not make me remind you why you work for me." He muttered, his tone dangerously light as though he was discussing the weather. "It becomes tiresome. Leave before you annoy me further and be grateful that I am in a good mood today."

Uncoiling himself from the window seat Gilbert stood lazily, ignoring the horrified gazes of the others. With a quick movement he stubbed out his cigarette on the nearest ashtray and took his hat from the boy next to him.

"Come on Birdie." He said, sliding the fedora onto his head with a smirk as though he had not just been threatened. "We have work to do."

The boy bowed his golden head and followed after his retreating back. It was oppressively silent as they went to the door, the sound of the clock and the click of their shoes against the floor. Katyusha breathed a sigh of relief when the door clicked shut behind them.

"And now we wait?" She asked after a pause, dreading the answer. Ivan finally turned to look at her, a childlike smile warping his face. His eyes caught the light dangerously turning them the purple-grey of a sky before a winter storm.

"And now we wait." He agreed. Natalia returned his smile cruelly but Katyusha found that she could not. She knew what that smile meant. Ivan turned back to the chessboard and placed the queen on a square as if he had been contemplating it all that time. "Check."

oOo

**And Russia returns :') What evil are you planning? :I**  
><strong>And Gilbert finally appears :') I'd love some fanart for him :L<strong>  
><strong>In fact I'd just love fan art :') haha<strong>  
><strong>And Birdie is not Canada! I know that's a name for him that people give him but seeing as Canada's in the shop at this point in time it's obviously not him. Thought I'd give Gilbird a human body and the name 'Birdie' has a point ;) to be explained laaaater!<strong>

**The translations:**

**_O__ù__ est ce gar__ç__on?_ where is he?**

**_Je vais le tuer- _I'll kill him**

**_Papa d'attendre_ Papa wait!**

**_Rat sournois_ Sneaky rat**

**I did use google translate so I may be wrong but that's what he's meant to be saying**

**Reviews are love! Thanks for reading!**

**The meal is coming next chapter :) It's going to be a chunky piece to write as it's quite long in my head but I want it to be one chapter. I think :/ I'll see. Anyway, what with it's size and all my work it might take a while for me to upload the next chapter. Bare with me! It'll be up as soon as I'm able! :D**


	10. Out of the Frying Pan

**ALERT!**  
><strong>50th reviewer will still recieve a one shot of their choice :D YAY! (I must be mad :L)<strong>

**This chapter is almost 7000 words X_X and took what seems to be forever! Hope it's good! I was going to cut it in the middle because it's double my normal chapter size but I decided I liked the effect of it as a whole :)**  
><strong>Anyway enjoyyy~<strong>

**Disclaimer- only the plot is mine :(**

oOo

"You came!" Alfred sounded pleasantly surprised as he flung open the back door. Lovino scowled at his response and stepped in, standing in the doorway awkwardly as Alfred put the bolt back on with a loud thud. "I didn't think you would."

"I said I would, so I did." He mumbled as the boy turned to look at him, his eyes wide. He seemed to consider questioning the dark look on his face before visibly letting it go out of his mind. Lovino shook off his coat and hat that he was wearing, underneath his clothes as casual as he owned, but Alfred had gone one further and looked as though he was wearing some sort of bed wear. Oblivious to how ridiculous he looked, he grinned and tugged him up the stairs into the flat above.

He had never been upstairs in all the time he had worked in the place and despite the nervous knot in his stomach Lovino was curious. The stairs were poorly lit and small, he struggled with the angle while Alfred charged up them like a mountain goat, looking behind him once to encourage him on. The stairs lead to a small landing, painted a vulgar green colour that did not match the worn carpet.

"Let's go and tell Francis you're here." Alfred said turning to the left where the smell of cooking food wafted out of the room. Lovino turned to follow him but jumped back quickly. At first he thought it was a large golden dog but after a second he realised it was not moving. Nor was it a dog. It was a large statue of a lion that served as a coat rack of all things, the expression on it's face was glum as if it knew it was being used like some sort of camel.

Alfred glanced back at the sudden movement and laughed. "Sorry I should have warned you. Dad brought over this monstrosity from England, Francis wanted to throw it out but we couldn't afford a hat stand so there you are. Here."

He took the thin coat and hat from his hand and placed them on the lion, the hat on it's head as if it was actually wearing it. Alfred chuckled at the sight and lead the way into the small kitchen. It was a pale yellow in here, it was if the whole house had been painted with a child's paint set. It was a long room that had compacted a small kitchen and dinner with a sitting room placed off to one side. A wireless sat on the kitchen counter playing some music to which the occupant of the room sang to. Francis was stood at the kitchen hob, stirring a pot and swaying his hips in time to the beat of the song. As they entered he turned and smiled.

"Ahh Lovino, welcome!" Again with his first name, he must have been in a really good mood or perhaps he saw it as inhospitable to call a guess by their surname in the house. "Dinner is on ze way, I 'ope you like risotto."

"_S__ì,_" He replied in Italian without thinking but Francis tittered with laughter as if he had told a joke. Alfred just looked confused.

"'See'?" He repeated. Lovino winced at the brutal murder of the simple word. "Does that mean yes?"

Francis rolled his eyes and smirked. "No _mon cher_, it means 'risotto is my favourite food ever!'"

"Really?" Alfred said blissfully ignorant. "Well you learn something new everyday, eh?"

Lovino resisted the urge to laugh and Francis' face fell into an expression of the deepest despair. Turning back to the pot he shook is head in disbelief, apparently able to even form a reply to the stupidity that had just fallen out of his mouth.

"Come on, I'll show you the rest of the house!" Alfred continued cheerfully as though nothing had happened. Lovino nodded and followed him from the kitchen, past the lion and to what he assumed were the bedrooms. Without knocking Alfred charged into one room earning a startled shriek from Matthew who had been bent over a small desk, his glasses askew on his face with the sudden movement.

"Mattie! What'ya doing?" The elder boy asked as Lovino took in the room. It was big but a bunk bed and a single bed had been crammed into the space making it look a lot smaller than it actually was. He thought of his own room back home which was twice this size and all his own and felt guilty. He would hate to have to share with Feli, especially now they were older. It was bad enough that he sometimes crept into his bed.

The younger boy corrected his glasses as he smiled bashfully at him in welcome. "I was doing homework Al, I must have nodded off."

His eyes were a little red behind the glasses, a quick glance at the paper in front of him showed that the work was art. Matthew was attempting to draw the vase of roses on the desk before him but he hadn't got very far. Lovino was not as good at art as his little brother but he knew how to draw and couldn't help but offer his services.

"Do you need any help?" He pointed to the blank paper on the desk with a free hand as Alfred threw himself down on the single bed. It was obviously his, the pile of clothes and wrappers was a dead give away. Matthew blushed at the attention but nodded and moved aside to allow him to sit down. He immediately got to work.

"I didn't think you'd be interested in art homework," Matthew admitted in his quiet voice. He very rarely spoke and Lovino was always surprised at the softness of his tone in comparison to his sibling.

"I'm not." He said as he concentrated on the pencils movements. He decided he would draw the basic outline and he would have to fill in the rest himself. "Feliciano is better at art than me. I was always better at sport and maths. But I did like to draw."

"Did?" Matthew asked, his eyes large as he settled across from his brother on the bottom bunk of the other bed. A thought crossed Lovino's mind to who the top bunk belonged to but he pushed it aside.

"I'm too old to mess around with paintbrushes and pencils." He said, keeping his tone even. They were the exact same word that his Grandfather had said to him when he had shown interest in drawing. He had been upset at the time but now he didn't mind too much, however the feeling of the pencil between his fingers and the soft scratching sound it made as it flicked across the page were more than satisfying. He wondered what His Grandpa would think to that-

At the thought of his Grandpa his stomach constricted and another worry came to mind. What if he found out he had come? He didn't want to think about it. But he had been sneaky, no one would think his absence to be suspicious if luck was on his side. He had told Heracles to drive him, that he had got permission from his Grandpa. Heracles was a quiet man and would never question his young master. It had been harder to get rid of Antonio, he just wouldn't leave him alone. But a convenient conversation with Roma had given him a a perfect opportunity to lie that he could not refuse.

"And Mattie is too old for that silly bear but he still keeps it." Alfred said bringing him back to the world, pointing to a tatty stuffed polar bear in the corner of Matthew's bed.

"Because it was from mum and I don't want to throw it out." Matthew defended himself quickly a pink tinge rising into his face. Alfred scoffed as he sat up and rooted around in his draw for something, a second later he brought up a colourful sweet and popped it into his mouth with relish.

"You gave it a name." Alfred argued with a chuckle. "Mr Kumajiro was it?"

"I don't remember, I just say Kuma these days."

A small figure burst into the room in the same way Alfred had done moments before, Lovino jumped but luckily the pencil was not on the page otherwise he would have ruined the picture. The boy who had entered the room was about twelve years old with large blue eyes under straw coloured hair. His face was rounded with youth and his cheeks pink, he must have just run in from outside. At the sight of him he stopped in his tracks.

"Oh it's the rich boy!" He said loudly, his accent was not American but English. Alfred threw a cushion at the boy who dodged it with a defiant look.

"Shut up Peter! And get out!"

Peter stuck out his chin and lower lip. "This is my room too. I'll do whatever the bloody hell I like in it. So there."

"If dad or Francis catch you swearing you'll be for it." The older sibling said crossly but it had little effect. Peter gave him the finger and with one last curious look charged out of the room slamming the door behind him. Matthew shook his head and bent to pick up the cushion off the floor.

"Who was that?" Lovino asked feeling more than confused. He'd never seen the kid before in all his life. Alfred groaned.

"That is Peter, my annoying half brother and my dad's second son to some brawd in England." He took out another sweet and chewed it while he spoke, his mouth working around the words and sweet with expertise. "He lived with dad in England 'cos his mum didn't want him. He had to bring him over here when he moved for his job. He's a right little dweeb. Always thieving my sweets and swearing."

Right, Lovino thought, mentally adding the other boy to Alfred's large and confusing family tree. Alfred and Matthew were half brothers on their mums side, Matthew had lived with Francis for a long time hence why he spoke French. Alfred had lived with his mum all his life because his dad had left and gone back to England, where he'd had another relationship and another kid. After Matt and Al's mum had died Francis and the other guy had brought the dysfunctional family together. It was enough to give anyone a headache.

"Here," he said handing Matthew the finished sketch. It wasn't anything special but his eyes lit up in thanks.

"_Merci_!" He gasped looking at it as though it was gold. Feeling confused Lovino shrugged, it was nothing and it kept his gaze away from Alfred who was shovelling sweets into his mouth as though he was afraid they would disappear. He felt sorry for the young boy who had to put up with one annoying sibling and another who wasn't even related to him just because his mum had died.

There was the sound of voices in the hall and the thump of someone walking up the stairs. Alfred's face lit up in excitement.

"That'll be dad!" He jumped up, tugging Lovino along with him who had to resist the urge to shake the boy off. "Come on, I'll introduce you!"

A man was indeed coming up the stairs, his face bent wearily to the floor and a hat slung low over his head. He dragged himself up each stair with a tiredness of someone who worked hard and got nothing for it. With a sigh he shook of his coat, pausing at the sight of the unfamiliar garments on the lion rack before turning to look at them. Alfred's dad was a stocky man, with large eyebrows and tatty blond hair like a birds nest on top of his head. His face was tired, he had bags under his eyes and a few days of stubble growth on his chin but his expression was friendly towards the stranger.

"Hello there boys," He greeted them as he continued undressing. His accent was the same as Peter's but more cultured. "Am I meant to assume that we have a guest for dinner?"

"Yep dad," Alfred sang, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement. He was like a little kid. "This is Lovino-"

"I had guessed." The man's voice was stern as he turned to his son but cleared when he held out his hand to Lovino. "I'm Arthur Kirkland, Lovino, I've heard a lot about you."

He took his hand in his own and shook it. His hands were dry and rough. "Lovino Vargas sir, it's nice to meet you."

Arthur's hand around his own spasmed briefly, tightening on his own hand painfully. His face remained frozen in a welcoming smile but his eyes had lost their warmth. He let his hand go quickly as though he had received a shock and took a step back.

"Vargas?" He repeated. Lovino nodded feeling confused but luckily Alfred saved him by jumping in with his usual drivel.

"He's Italian you know dad." He chattered away. "His Grandfather brought them over when they were little so he's never seen the place but he can speak the language. He taught me how to say 'I like risotto' isn't that great?"

"Wonderful Alfred," Arthur said dryly, his expression reverting back to it's previous stern one as he looked down at his son. "Go and wash up before dinner. You have chocolate all around your face again."

He turned back to Lovino with a reassuring smile. "Please come through, Mr Vargas. Welcome to our home."

oOo

The meal was wonderful, it tasted as good as anything he had ever eaten at home and he enjoyed the family's company greatly. It was a welcome change to not have to sit in relative silence at the dinner table and to chat with the others. Alfred spoke the loudest of them all, excited to entertain his guest; he told fabulous stories half of which he had obviously fabricated but it was funny to see him be scolded by the others at the table. Matthew, who was sat next to Lovino on the small round table had faded into the background and didn't speak much. Alfred was next to his brother and his father, little Peter was stuck in between Arthur and Francis who it seemed had some sort of rivalry going on. The mere presence of the Frenchman seemed to touch a nerve in the Englishman who snapped at him over his youngest sons head. Francis seemed to take it all in his stride and laughed it off with a flick of his head. When next to each other the two men were complete polar opposites, Francis so artfully formed and good looking in comparison to the worn down Arthur that it made the Englishman look that little more rough around the edges.

Francis stood up suddenly, taking their empty plates with him. Lovino was warm and comfortable from the food in his belly and smiled pleasantly at him as he took his. "It is a good thing I organised zis meal Lovino, if Arthur 'ad anything to do with it we'd be eating 'is dreadful scones as desserts."

Peter tittered, snorting into his plate of ice cream with laughter as his fathers face went a dangerous shade of purple.

"Can it, frog." He ordered. "Don't forget who brings the most money into this house."

"Of course _mon cher_, I would never forget." Francis replied lightly, with a weary tone as if he was used to the argument. He gathered up the plates and walked the few feet to the kitchen to set them in the sink. He was just placing the last one in when the phone rang in the hallway and he paused before hurrying to get it.

"So Lovino, we've heard enough of Alfred's stories for one night," Arthur said turning to look at him. They were sat directly across from one another at the table so it was more of a causal roll of the eyes in his direction. "Why don't you tell us about yourself?"

"There's not much to say really," he said as Arthur reached into his jacket pocket for something, bringing out a case which he opened and began rolling a cigarette. "I live with my Grandpa and my brother up town, in an apartment. Feliciano is still at school; he and Matthew are in the same class."

Matthew smiled slightly at the mention of his name probably pleased to have the attention for once. Arthur glanced once in his direction before returning to his work, his eyes focused on the tobacco in front of him. Francis' voice could be heard as he spoke to the person on the phone at the foot of the stairs.

"...I can't tonight...Tomorrow? Per'aps, I shall 'ave to..."

"And what does your Grandfather do?" Arthur asked, making conversation. He finished his cigarette and hastened to light it. He pulled a drag with a sigh of pleasure, the orange light at the tip lighting up the features of his face briefly.

"He's a businessman." Lovino answered. He was comfortable and the wine they had had with the meal loosened his tongue a little as he added, "He owns a laundry and a restaurant. He has good links with our local church too, St. Adelaide's on 5th, do you know it?"

"I think I do." Arthur glanced up as Francis re entered the room looking smug. "Small place?"

"Yes, that's the one. We go every Sunday."

"What's up with you?" The blond asked suspiciously, his eyes narrowed in the others direction as he returned to the kitchen to wash up. Francis threw him a dazzling smile but he might as well have not bothered as it only made the slugs that were his eyebrows grow in severity.

"Nothing _mon amie curieuse_," he all but sang as he turned on the tap to fill the sink. "You don't not 'ave to turn all detective at 'ome you know, none of us 'ere are criminals."

Lovino vaguely recalled Alfred boasting to him about his father's promotion in the forces. He had thought he was just working with the paper work but perhaps not.

Alfred laughed loudly at Francis' statement, leaning over Matthew to blabber rapidly to Lovino; his blue eyes huge behind his glasses.

"Dad is an Inspector! Did I tell you?" He said cheerfully. Matthew pulled a face and stood up so that his brother was no longer leaning on him, he went to help Francis in the kitchen, unfortunately this meant that there was a seat free and he quickly slid over so that he was right next to him. Joy. "He has his own police officers below him to order around it's so cool!"

"Really?" Something about Arthur's even stare across the table jarred him, he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"Yep!" Peter butted in their conversation, a little gleam in his eye as he stopped Alfred in his tracks. "Dad works on the Mafia cases-"

"That's meant to be a secret idiot!" Alfred hushed him but Lovino barely noticed. The icy feeling in his stomach spread as he stared at the man across the table from him, trying to hide his shock and horror. Arthur returned his stare with equal intensity his hands folded under his chin and the cigarette dangling forgotten under his mouth. The light above the table caught his eyes in an eerie manner, they were green, intelligent and wide as they searched his features. They were not the warm green of Antonio's eyes that seemed as crisp as new apples, but a soft pale green tinged with grey like a mist.

He knew, he had to. Arthur's eyes told him more than his casual stance ever could, there was a triumphant sheen to them like a fox that had just spotted it's prey. Shit, shit! He was the police! No wonder he had reacted in such an odd way to his name. He obviously knew his Grandfather's name. He might has well have handed him his family on a silver platter! Damn it, at least he had not said any more but what he had let slip had been enough. He had an estimation of where he lived anyway- good job his Grandpa didn't like to do work from home.

"Hey, you okay Lovino?" Matthew asked quietly. He hadn't realised he had been shaking before the boy drew attention to it, he immediately scrunched up his hands to stop the movement and plastered a fake smile on his face.

"I'm fine," his voice shook a little. He could not allow himself to panic but fuck, he had to get out of the house and fast. "I've just realised how late it is, I couldn't use your phone for a minute could I?"

"No problem." Francis answered, waving a soapy spatula. "You know where it is."

Lovino nodded and jumped up agilely, trying his hardest not to run out of the kitchen and down the stairs. When downstairs in the darkened shop, the only light coming from the rooms above, he couldn't hold himself back and rushed to the phone his fingers sliding clumsily around the phone so much that he dropped it. He cursed and picked it up and struggled with the dial. The ring tone sounded in his ear. He didn't care if he got yelled at, he needed to get home quickly. He could only pray that Elizabeta would answer the phone. Lovino thanked his lucky stars that his Grandpa would never answer the house phone in his life, preferring to leave it to the servants.

"Hello?" A voice answered on the third ring and Lovino almost cried in relief.

"Antonio!" He spoke in a loud whisper, fearing that someone from upstairs may hear his conversation but by the sounds of it Alfred was talking again and they wouldn't. Still, he did not want to take any chances. "It me, Lovino. I need you to do me a favour."

"Lovi?" Antonio sounded weary for some reason. Lovino scowled at the nickname but didn't rise to it. "What's going on? Is something wrong, I thought you were with your friends?"

"They aren't my-" He didn't want to argue, there was not enough time. "Look I just need you to send Heracles in the car to pick me up from work. Can you do that for me?"

There was something strained in Antonio's voice, it took him a second to place it but after a second he realised that he just wasn't being cheerful; he was being formal.

"I think I could do that." He said lightly. "When shall we pick you up?"

Perhaps Viktor was there, staring over his shoulder making sure he spoke properly. Viktor was a stickler for formalities and rules.

"Set off now." He ordered glancing towards the stairs. They were dark and empty.

"Yes sir." Antonio muttered and hung up on him. Lovino stared at the receiver open mouthed as it buzzed the dial tone mockingly. What on earth was that about? Was his bodyguard in a bad mood with him? Shaking his head he put down the phone more gently than we he had picked it up, he turned back to the stairs-

And jumped because Arthur was leaning in the doorway with his legs crossed. Lovino knew it was him because his messy hair stood out in a halo shaped shadow around his head and he was smoking. There was silence as he looked at him, disrupted only by his steady exhale of smoke which he puffed into the air.

"Leaving so soon, Mr Vargas?" Arthur asked, his tone was polite but there was an amused edge to his words as if he was trying not to smirk. He could not tell in the dark but he was sure a smug grin etched the man's face like it had been carved from iron.

"My Grandfather will miss me, I have already been gone too long." He answered tersely.

Arthur chuckled and sent a wave of smoke through the air. When he spoke his voice was breathless. "Ahh yes, your Grandfather. I am sure he wouldn't want one of his precious grandson's staying at the home of the man who wants nothing more than to see his sorry ass behind bars. Which one are you then?"

"I-" He wanted to scream at him to shut up, to stay away from his family but he was cut across.

"But of course, you told me yourself." Arthur laughed as he languidly wandered down the final few steps and into the back room. Lovino bit his lip but did not retreat. "Lovino Vargas, heir to the Vargas family business, dealing in extortion and murder to line your own pockets."

"It's not like that!" He snapped in response but the older man was closer now and more visible as he entered the light. He was about the same size as Lovino but he made him feel about a foot tall. His green eyes were like a poisonous fog and froze him to the spot. Still he would not allow himself to be spoken to like that. "How dare you say something like that to me?"

"What are you going to do about it boy?" Arthur all but hissed into his face, the smoke spiralling from his mouth like the maw of a great dragon. "Last time I checked your Grandpop was still ruling the roost. I'm sure he would not take kindly to one of his own ratting him out to a police officer; heir or not. Are you willing to risk your life and tell him?"

Lovino resisted the urge to gasp. Of course Arthur was right; he could never tell his Grandfather about this. The blame was entirely his own, he had opened his mouth and said things he should not have, let vital information loose to the most dangerous of sources. His Grandfather hated the police how stood in his way at every turn, what would he do if he knew Lovino had unwittingly said something.

And it was hardly unwitting. He had know all along that Arthur was in the forces, it was his own stupid stuck up nature that made it that he had never asked what department the man worked for. Alfred had spoke about it enough times-

Damn it; Alfred. Even if on the chance that Roma did not hurt him for squealing he would hunt down the officer he had said stuff too. It wouldn't be the first time that he had taken the dirty route and used a person's family against them. It was in his nature, he who knew the value of family knew how weak this vital core was. Lovino's Grandfather could hurt Alfred or Matthew, even little Peter to get at the man before him.

_You have to knock down all of the dominoes to hit the final one Lovi_, he had crooned one while they were playing with the said black blocks. Lovino had only been small, perhaps five or six because they were in the apartment and his parents were dead. His Grandfather had stroked his head in the usual manner and watched him play the game with a smile on his face but even then Lovino knew he had not been talking about the numbered rectangles before him but something much larger. To finish a job you had to touch all bases, cover every corner and to do that you had to hit people where it most hurt.

He could not allow that to happen.

Arthur must have sensed his victory as he broke into a wide grin, turning away before he could see just how large it was. "Come, you must say your goodbyes before you go Mr Vargas. It would be rude to just leave wouldn't it?"

Lovino swallowed his humiliation and followed the man up the stairs and back into the kitchen. Matthew and Francis were well under way with the tidying and the table was clear of and plates, clean ones gleamed on the side. Alfred looked bored as he sat at the table with Peter who was colouring, swinging his short legs under the chair and occasionally scrapping his brother who pursed his lips. At the sight of Lovino however he seemed to brighten up.

"Hey, you staying for a game of cards or something?" He asked eagerly before he could speak. A drop of sadness hit his stomach that he couldn't, he would have loved to stay and be normal but he had to go home before he caused any more damage.

Arthur puffed out a breath of smoke. "I am afraid Lovino is going home for the night, his Grandpa is expecting him."

Alfred visibly drooped but then perked back up again as an idea hit him.

"You could always come round again! We'd love to have you!" To Lovino's surprise Francis turned and nodded with a smile, Matthew blushed and did the same his head moving in rapid agreement. Even Peter, who hadn't spoken to him since he'd called him 'rich boy' grinned toothily at him. The sight made his eyes water.

"I'll try." He lied hoarsely, his mouth suddenly dry. A car horn outside the building echoed throughout the house in a violent burst making everyone jump. Peter jumped from his chair and padded quickly to the window, his mouth agape as he stared out.

"Look at the car!" He shouted, pointing outside and only stopping when his father dragged him back in by the scruff of the neck. Lovino took that as his cue to leave and went into the hallway to retrieve his coat and hat. The family followed him out to say their goodbyes, Alfred looked depressed that he had to leave so soon and Matthew was surprisingly sad too. He mumbled a quick 'see ya' and hurried down the stairs.

"See you again soon lad!" Arthur called. Lovino looked back to find both him and the lion statue staring down at him with a proud and triumphant gaze, he couldn't stand it for too long and after a quick fumble with the lock on the door he hurried out into the night.

oOo

At the sight of the dark car waiting at the curb his stomach relaxed a little in relief. He was getting away, he was going home and no one would ever be the wiser at what had happened. His musings fell from his thoughts as he drew closer to the car and recognised the driver. It was not Heracles as he had asked but Antonio himself. Lovino could feel his annoyance mounting already and he wasn't even with his stupid bodyguard; what was that moron doing?

Had his Grandfather seen him take the car? Was he even licensed to drive the damn thing? He didn't fancy an accident on top of his otherwise ruined night.

He stomped over to the door and threw it open with the full intention to yell at him but froze. Where he had expected nothing but seat there was a person sat rigid, his back straight as he moved his head slightly to look at him. His golden eyes burned.

"Get in the car, Lovino." His Grandfather ordered softly after he had stood there for a long horrified moment, thousands of thoughts swirling through his head so fast that he didn't know where to start. He almost forgot how to breath. A quick glance in Antonio's direction found the back of his head as he faced stubbornly forward. Apart from him, Roma was alone in the car which was highly unusual as he never went anywhere without his hound dog Viktor sniffing at his tracks. He gulped.

"You are wearing my patience thin..." Roma reminded him darkly and Lovino all but threw himself in the car, barely shutting the door before Antonio revved the engine and set off. Inside the small back compartment of the vehicle his Grandfather was very close and he could smell the lingering scent of cigar smoke clinging to his clothes.

They drove in complete silence for a very long time, his Grandfather not even looking in his direction, a scowl etched into his rugged features. Lovino dreaded to find out what his presence could mean. A paranoid part of him jumped to the conclusion that he must know about Arthur but that was impossible, wasn't it?

"You disappoint me Lovino," Lovino jumped, he had not been paying attention too wrapped up in his own thoughts. He was surprised by his Grandfather's words and tone. He had expected shouting, yelling, anything but for him to sound calm of all things. "Are we not good enough for you? Do you not want us any more?"

He registered what he was saying. "I- what? No Grandpa, no-"

"Then why did you lie to everyone?" Roma asked with more force although maintaining the calm edge to his voice, he turned to face him. It was if they were discussing serious philosophy rather than a little domestic trouble. "Why did you not want to eat with us?"

"I was invited I-"

"You should have said no!" All too late Lovino realised that his Grandfather was at the stage in anger that he sometimes got to when working, the anger where he bottled it up and would vent it on someone. He had seen it happen many times. Suddenly being stuck in a car with him did not seem like a good idea. "Damn it boy! I said you were to quit, not dance around and go to silly meals with the fools that work there!"

He had got into full steam now, his voice was still measured but getting louder with every word. Lovino cringed back into the chair as he glared at him furiously, his Grandfather's hands gripping the seat so hard that the knuckles had turned white.

"How dare you leave the house without telling anyone?" He demanded. "There are people out there who would want to get at me and they would use you. Do you not see how valuable you are to the business, to this family?"

He loomed over him, his hands still grasping the seat like a man holding onto a ledge before diving to a great depth. His pupils were dilated and livid. Lovino's hands shook as Roma tensed like he wanted to grab him and shake some sense into him.

All this for leaving the house, he did not want to imagine what would happen to him if Roma found out about Arthur.

"I pay for a bodyguard to protect you Lovino, yet you do not even take him with you." Roma edged a little closer. "How can the man protect you when he's not even next to you? Tell me this!"

He tried to open his mouth and answer but no sound came out. His Grandfather's closeness was overpowering and the smell of the smoke in his clothes was like a toxic gas impending his movements. Lovino didn't realise he had backed up in his seat until his back grinded into the side of the car which gouged into his bruises. He help back a wince.

"Well?" Roma asked dangerously. For a horrible moment Lovino thought he was going to hit him, something he hadn't done in many years, but then the car door opened. Both of them had been so focused on each other they had not noticed the car had stopped and that they were in the garage at the back of the apartment. The dimness was not the street lights but a thin electric bulb that dangled naked from the ceiling.

Antonio was framed in the doorway, his tanned face unusually pale and his lips drawn together in a tight line. "We've arrived Sirs."

Roma seemed to droop in his seat, the tension going out of his arms at the knowledge that he had an audience. A spark of annoyance flashed briefly across his features before he nodded and climbed easily out of the vehicle. He thrust his hand back inside the cab for Lovino to take, he wanted to remind him he could get out easily enough on his own but the interaction between them just then had been bad enough. It would not be a good idea to antagonise him further. Thankful that it was over he let out a sigh of relief as he closed his hand around his Grandfather's own.

Then with a sudden and violent force, the older man wrenched him from the car. For a spilt second Lovino tumbled through the air but Roma's hands found the front of his shirt, halting his decent to the floor he used his momentum to swing him around so that his body hit the car with a crash. This time he could not stop the yelp of pain that escaped his lips and black spots danced in his vision where he had hit his head. His Grandfather dominated over him once more, his golden eyes furious and blazing as he held his collar high cutting off his air so that he could only draw a small breath. Panicking, Lovino struggled and choked for air but a quick shake of his captors hand put a quick stop to that.

"Never disobey me again, Lovino." Roma growled, his face very close to his own. The cigar scent had not just lingered on his clothes but on his breath too. He was too near to him, he felt more suffocated that even. "Do you understand me?"

He did not answer because there was not enough air for him to do so. With hesitant hands he tried to pry his hands off of his shirt but they were stuck fast. He made a unintentional whine at the back of his throat.

"I said do you understand me?" His Grandfather repeated in a shout, his calm composure dissolving quickly. A few specks of spit landed on his face. Lovino flinched.

"Grandpa, please- I can't-" He croaked his voice barely above a whisper. His legs shook violently, if he was not being held up he probably would have fallen. He was vaguely aware of another voice but his vision was overpowered by his Grandfather's presence.

Another harsh shake brought tears of fear to his eyes. "That is not what I asked boy! Answer me!"

"Yes-" He coughed weakly, anything to get him off him. "Yes-"

As quick as it had happened the hands were off him, letting him droop. Through some miracle Lovino's legs did not fail him and he was able to stand, if some what shakily. His Grandfather's face was still grim but the fire was gone from his eyes as he looked down on him, his hands now safely on his shoulders.

"Good boy Lovi, I knew you would see things in my light." He reached up a hand to stroke his cheek. Lovino flinched but he either did not notice or did not care as he caressed his face gently as though nothing had happened. "This is for your own good, you need to understand this."

Still shaking and doubting his own voice he shook his head quickly in response. Roma bent low and placed a kiss on his forehead with such a passionate intensity that even when he withdrew it was as if he could still feel his lips pressed down powerfully on his head. And then he was gone, casually walking towards Viktor who had appeared in the doorway, looking troubled. The two of them left without a further word leaving Antonio and Lovino alone in the cold garage.

"Shit," he heard the bodyguard hiss as the strength in his legs left him and he slid to the floor. It was the first time Antonio had ever swore and it sounded pained. He hurried over to Lovino's crouched form by the car and put a hand on his shoulder which was quickly flicked off. Sudden rage fuelled his body. How dare he be sympathetic? It was all his fault! He was the one who had taken his Grandfather to meet him, he was the one who had allowed him to bully him. He was meant to be his bodyguard! What happened to protecting him?

"Don't touch me!" Lovino snapped, trying to hide the tears of frustration welling up in his eyes. "Damn it, this is your fault bastard!"

Antonio flinched back shocked but repeated the gesture, his hand gentle on his shoulder. His palm was warm against the coldness of the chilly garage, his smell was fresh in comparison to the musty smell of oil and dust. It was dimly lit in the outbuilding and everything about Antonio's face seemed fuzzy, or perhaps that was the blur of the tears in his eyes. Humiliation and pain rose up until he was drowning in it and he sobbed pitifully into his own hands, refusing to look at the man before him.

"Come on," Antonio whispered kindly in his ear when he calmed down enough to hear, his sobs disappearing into nothing. "Let's get you back inside."

oOo

**So it's taken me ten chapter to get past all the introduction stuff :') This is one of the turning points of the story, as you can probably tell by the size xD Sorry if I made your eyes bleed!**  
><strong>So what do you think so far? Finally I'm on double digits ;D yay! I really love reviews and ideas (if you have any) and I always listen to comments and pleas if I think they could help the story :D I want to hear from youuu~<strong>  
><strong>Thank you for all the support so far! Hopefully chapter 11 will be up at some point in the next week or so. I have essays to do (which I should be doing right now) and they need to be in next week so I may be a little busy for a while. But I'm back at Uni so I do have a lot of free time after the essays are in (at least 2 weeks off. Win.) So hopefully more stuff then!<strong>

**No hints for next chapter you will have to wait and see ;D**

**Thanks for reading~**


	11. And into the Fire

**Gosh I treat you guys, chapter eleven served piping hot ;D **  
><strong>Hope you like my dears! To all the lovely reviews and new watchers thank you very much! I can't say this enough that it means a lot!<strong>

**-ALERT-**  
><strong>50th reviewer competition still on! 50th review gets a one shot of their choice :) Seeing as we're getting close now good luck! <strong>

**Until then enjoy~**

**Disclaimer- Hetalia characters do not belong to me  
>And yes I am well aware that the last two chapter titles are extremely unimaginative and also not mine :')<br>**

oOo

"This is perhaps the biggest lead we've had for this case in the past three month," Arthur grumbled as he scowled at the room in general, his fingers itching for the feel of a cigarette, his throat craving the velvety caress of smoke. "The least you lot could do is look bloody interested."

No response, the room was silent. Arthur's scowl deepened, his thick eyebrows drawing together in a severe line. _Why hadn't he stayed in bed this morni__ng_?

He looked at his second in command for help; Captain Vash Zwingli was a man with his head screwed on the right way and was usually on his side in these sort of situations. However, Vash's expression was as disbelieving as the other two members of the team, his green eyes were worried as if they had thought his superior had gone mad.

"I just can't see how the lead is helpful, Sir." He grunted as he sensed Arthur's gaze upon him. He shook his head making his dark blond hair fly around his head. "It's not going to persuade the Commissioner to let you re-open the case. We've hit too many dead ends."

"Well what do we already know?" Arthur demanded, making his crew look like he'd just asked them to sip vinegar. With a sigh the other man of the group stood, he was taller than Arthur and loomed above him before speaking like he was at school, his voice low.

"Roma Vargas, age fifty eight, leader of the Vargas criminal empire." The man reached into his pocket and brought out a cigarette which he lit as he spoke, his tone had a recited quality to it. "Previously of Italy, he moved to America about fifteen years back after the death of his daughter, her husband and youngest son. Accident suspicious, foul play is almost certain."

"Come on Lars, you make it sound so dull." A woman interjected. She was the only woman in the room and wasn't wearing uniform like they were, instead she wore plain office clothes; a skirt with a white shirt and jumper. Her golden hair, not unlike the tall man's in colour, was pulled back off her face by a bandanna. Glass earrings tinkled at her ears with every movement as she swung her legs as she sat on her desk..

"I don't think there's a way it can't sound dull, Anri." Lars argued, billowing out a mouth full of smoke. There was a hint of a complaint to the words and Arthur crossed his arms with a pout, a vein twitching at his temple.

"Then I'll tell it," Anri said. She began speaking, admittedly a lot more cheerfully than he had done. "So Roma comes over to America to start a new life, he brings a handful of servants with him, he also brings his deceased daughter's sons. He's been very sneaky to keep their identities out of the limelight so long, we can only assume they aren't allowed out much and don't take part in their Grandpa's work."

"I don't know about that," Vash said, leaning back in his chair. "They were probably just too young, what were they when they came over; like five? Can't fire a gun when you're five."

Arthur had seen his Captain training in the shooting range and would seriously contest that statement. Vash fired a gun as if it was an extension of very being, so much so that it was scary to watch. He was probably firing guns before five.

"Anyway, Roma starts to build back up the empire he lost when his daughter died. New city, new start and all that." Anri continued. "He finds people to do his dirty business, gets allies and enemies. What with prohibition and the easy money it makes, it looks like he's started doing business in booze. That's about all the useful stuff we know."

Arthur paced in front of the desks. His crew had their own room, their four desks crammed into the small space had taken root there, weighed down by the sheer amount of paperwork that floated down from the offices up high. It was a room but a small one at that, there was not much space to pace in and all of his men were stood behind their desks. The window at the end didn't shut properly, the light was faulty, the door creaked and the desks jammed. What Arthur wouldn't give for a better office.

"Not quite," He muttered as their eyes followed his movements intently. "We now know the names of Roma's precious grandchildren."

He reached a chalk board; like the ones used in school, it rotated so that there was more space. On one side was where they kept their current notes, it was permanently stained with chalk from their previous cases and it wouldn't come off leaving a smeary mess. No matter how much Anri begged for them to use the other side Arthur would not allow it, turning the board it became clear why.

The back of the board was a record of everything Arthur knew about the Vargas family. Most of the board was taken up by notes, the other by a family tree and the pictures of the servants and known lackey's under Roma's charge. The man himself smirked down from a tattered picture at the top of the board, it was at least twenty years out of date and the man was much younger than his current fifty eight. Arthur had no idea what he looked like now but a small smile reached his lips when he realised that Lovino Vargas was the spitting image of his Grandfather, maybe a little softer around the eyes and rounder in the face but apart from that they could have been twins.

"The eldest grandchild is Lovino," Arthur picked up the chalk from the holder and scribbled in the name. "Heir to the family business I would assume, they like to give it to the eldest. He must be about twenty now; just the right age to learn how to take the reins so to speak. The youngest is Feliciano, he's still at school but in his last year. According to Matthew he's a nice boy, if somewhat strange."

He could feel the scepticism dripping off every corner of the room and he sighed.

"The identity of these two is vital to the case." He argued, turning back to the room. "Now we know them it'll be easier to get to Roma, especially the older boy."

"I just don't see it, Sir." Vash disputed, fingering the gun at his hip thoughtfully. "So what if we know the boys, what does that give us apart from more names and more paperwork? The boys aren't criminals-"

"Yet." Lars added darkly puffing away on his cigarette. Arthur wished he would stop, it was making his craving worse.

"Lars is right, and besides that I also found out some more information last night that will definitely make Commissioner Väinämöinen consider taking the case back on." He had told them no details of the meal last night, merely suggesting that he had found a source. By the sudden tension in the room he knew his words had interested them. His men were good at hiding their emotions in their features but in such a small room it was difficult to hide anything.

"Map please, Anri." Arthur asked the woman who immediately jumped to his request, fiddling with the papers on her desk before handing him the document. He spread it out on his own, slightly larger table and leant over it, smirking as he realised the others leaning over it too. With a thin finger he traced the road he was looking for, tapping on the small square and cross symbol that signified a holy building.

"A church boss?" Vash was not a sharp shooter for nothing, his focus was intense as he looked questioningly at his superior. "What's a church got to do with anything?"

"This church," He said with an air of pride. "Is called St. Adelaide's and is the spiritual haunt of our man. Every Sunday the family make a little trip to this place."

"How do you know that, Sir?" Lars grumbled sounding impressed as he stubbed out his cigarette in the overflowing ashtray on Arthur's desk.

"My source from last night is close to Roma. Very close in fact, you could almost say they're related." He teased. Anri pouted at the vague remark but Vash's eyes widened in shock.

"You can't be saying one of those boys told you this!"

"That I am Captain," Arthur could not stop the grin that spread across his face. Luck had definitely been on his side last night, after all these months of half truths and dead ends he finally had something solid to go on. "Last night I had the pleasure of meeting Mr Lovino Vargas. The lad had been working in the shop this whole time and I hadn't noticed because no one had said his last name to me. Then I learn something very interesting."

"What?"

"Turns out the boy doesn't want to work for the shop anymore," He explained. "Something about 'joining the family business' according to Francis. We all know what that means. And to add to that he looked as if he'd done seven rounds with a boxer; something must have happened. This could explain the reports the other night of gang activity, it all fits together. I'm sure of it."

"What are you suggesting Sir?" Anri said, her face flushed in excitement.

"I am not suggesting anything, I know that the gangs are on the move." He was certain of it. Something was going to happen and he knew it. There was a valid reason that he chased this case like a man possessed; because he knew that Roma Vargas was a man that needed to be stopped. In the world of the dons he could have been huge, his name could have done down in history books as one of the greatest criminals of the age. But he had missed his chance with the whole affair with his daughter's marriage, that was enough to make any man bitter.

Arthur was not an idiot. He could see what was plain to see in front of him. Vargas acts through his grandchild, like a puppet master holding all the strings he wants to use the younger model to run the city. But cities this size never had just have the one gang. He would have stepped on some toes somewhere and now all hell was going to break lose. Arthur could barely contain his excitement at the prospect of finally catching him. It was simple, all he needed was some evidence and he would have him.

"Come on Captain," He ordered swiftly as he grabbed his keys and hat. "We have a sermon to go to."

oOo

The tiny church on 5th was barely big enough for the amount of people that had crammed themselves into the room on that sweltering Sunday morning. Some people were stood in the aisles next to the large vaulted windows which were closed, locking in the heat. Lovino sat next to his Grandfather on one of the benches, his eyes focused on the text before him but only taking in half of what the man at the front was saying over the sea of heads.

It was tradition that the Vargas family visited this dingy little church every Sunday; where the paint flaked off the walls and showed the creamy plaster beneath. The ceiling was not as high as if should have been and every sound didn't echo as much as it could, instead sounding dull and monotonous. Even then, his brother loved coming even though the place was grim and he didn't understand the Latin, he just enjoyed the signing which was a main part of the mass. There were many songs to sing every week and his brother could usually be heard joining in loudly. A quick glance around Antonio found this to be the case today as well, he was even trying to encourage Ludwig to join in but the blond didn't seem to be enjoying it as much as he did.

For once, Lovino did not disagree with the potato eater. He found mass irritating, an hour or so stuffed into a stuffy room singing was not what he called fun. He understood how it was needed but he would have much preferred to have spoken to God in his own time, and without all the other people around him. He suppressed a groan as the man with the incense burner wandered up and down the aisle added to the suffocating nature of the air.

It was easily the hottest day of the summer and they were all crammed inside a tiny building. People were fanning themselves in favour of singing, occasionally mumbling a response to the Latin the mass leader spoke. Lovino too could feel the hair on the back of his neck stick to the skin, he could barely breathe all fastened up in his suit like a straight jacket. It did not help that the were crushed onto the bench by the people. His Grandfather and Antonio pushed at him from both sides as he tried to listen to the sermon but their presence was overwhelming and Lovino only found himself thinking about how long was left and when he would be free to move again. Neither of his companions seemed bothered by the heat, it was if it was not there. If the other people in the room did not look as hot as he felt Lovino would assume he was imagining it all.

Antonio smiled at him warmly as he tried to copy the Latin phrases from the book, failing on pronunciation. According to what he had blabbered when he had heard about where they were going he had never been to a Catholic Mass. He had assured him it was pretty dull but he seemed to be enjoying himself, but that might have just been the novelty of the experience.

Even though he smiled at him there was something more to Antonio's gaze, some sort of pity left over from last night. Lovino turned from him with a scowl, keeping his eyes focused on the main speaker as he spoke slowly from the alter, his eyes closed in thought. He took a deep breath and copied his stance, closing his eyes. His vision burned red from the sunlight.

Last night had been a disaster on many levels. He couldn't believe he'd dined with the man out to put his Grandfather behind bars. And then there was his Grandpa's reaction to him skipping dinner, the attack had left him shaken if anything else yet this morning Roma had acted as though nothing had happened. It had been a few years since he had raised a hand to him but the first time he had openly threatened him. He must have been really mad to have done that. Lovino had been stupid to believe he could have gotten away with it.

He was suddenly aware of movement. The Mass had finished without him realising and people were hurrying from the room, hoping to breathe easier outside where there was less stuffy air. He got to his feet and made to follow Antonio who was escaping out of the wall side of the aisle with Feliciano but his Grandfather grabbed his arm.

"No, no Lovi." He said cheerfully. "You stay with me. I want to show you off."

Not quite understanding what he meant he had no choice but to follow, painfully aware of Antonio's confused gaze as he went in the other direction. He followed his Grandfather and Viktor into the main aisle, as they walked upwards towards the alter Roma curved his arm over his shoulders. It was difficult to walk under his weight but Lovino dare not shake him off.

They reached the alter just as the church finally emptied leaving the main speaker and another man at the front of the room. When the man turned Lovino was surprised to find it was Mathias. He had no idea that he was Catholic, he hadn't even seen him sat down. The other man was also familiar, they had never properly met but Lovino knew that the pastor of the church was called Scipio. From what he could gather Scipio was some sort of relation to Ludwig and Viktor, he shared their steely blue eyed gaze, blond hair and chiselled face but his accent when he spoke was closer to Italian than anything else. Apparently he was from a branch of the family that lived near the boarder to Italy and had gone to University there to study, only to end up as a pastor in a tiny little church in America.

"Mr Vargas, so good to see you." He said as they drew closer. Up close, Scipio looked an unhealthy shade of pale and had dark rings below his eyes. His voice was weary. "What can I do for you today?"

"Nothing _amico_," Roma replied pleasantly. "I would like you to meet Lovino, he's working for the family now so you need to know his face."

Lovino had no idea what his Grandfather was on about, what did the pastor of a church have to do with the family business? Horror filled him as he glanced at Mathias who was smirking at the blond: he should not have been in this holy place. This was a house of God, not a place for someone like him to work. What was he doing here? Why was his Grandfather interfering in the church of all places?

He glanced behind him, looking for the others to see if they had noticed anything. Feliciano stood by the doorway chatting to Ludwig, totally oblivious. Antonio on the other hand was stood a little away from them and staring in his direction with something like worry in his green eyes, his hands fiddling with the bottom of his suit. As if noticing his distraction, Roma used his hand which was still slung around his shoulders to thumb the side of his cheek. Lovino flinched and turned back to the conversation.

"Good sermon today, Skip!" Mathias laughed, slapping the man on the back, perhaps a little too hard. "Very enlightening! But it looked like you were on your last dregs of the holy wine stuff, hardly any in the cups. Shame, it's just not the same without it, eh?"

"What would you know?" Scipio snapped, obviously not impressed. His gaze flicked briefly to Roma and Lovino before going back to the other man. "What would you know of the rites of God?"

With a bark of laughter Mathias gave his own hat a small flick so that it halted it's droop towards his eyes. He slapped him on the back again. "Now don't be like that Skip. We want to help you, we're here to help you-"

"To line your own pockets more like." He hissed. Lovino had to admire his bravery but he did not like the glare he was giving him; couldn't he see that he was nothing to do with this?

But of course he was everything to do with his Grandfather's business now. That glare was one that told him everything, he was no longer an innocent now. The room was still oppressively hot and the heat from his Grandfather's body was stifling. He wanted to move away but he was still stroking the side of his face, the path his finger traced burning across his cheek, his eyes locked onto Scipio with greed and his mouth curled into an indulgent smile.

"Now now boys, best behaviours." He scolded lightly. "We are in a house of God. And Mathias don't push the man so, he will come to us when he is ready."

"Sure thing Boss, sure thing." Mathias chirped brightly. Scipio glared suspiciously up at Roma who was at least a head taller, looking surprisingly intimidating in his long robes that hid his skinny frame and made him look much larger.

"You sound certain of that Mr Vargas."

"I am always certain of these things." Roma purred, squeezing the skin on Lovino's cheek. "Always."

"Grandpa!" Feliciano cheered as he ran over, his little feet pattering on the stone floor. His smile was bright and the curls of his auburn hair bounced with his movement. "Grandpa are we going soon? Rodrich promised to give me a piano lesson today."

Out of the corner of his eye Lovino saw Scipio relax a little at the sight of his brother. As long as they had known him the minister had a certain soft spot for the younger boy, he was part of the choir and had once tried to teach him to paint. It was for this reason that Lovino was not fond of the man, because like everyone else he was enamoured by Feliciano's infectious happiness and thought about him in the same way he saw his Grandfather: poorly.

"_Ciao_ Feliciano." Scipio greeted as he reached them, his blue eyes softened somewhat. "You are getting taller."

His brother practically beamed. "You think so?"

"_Sì, _you might end up as tall as your Grandpa at this rate." The man smiled. Roma disentangled himself from Lovino to pat the youngest Vargas on the head. Behind them hovered the three bodyguards, yet it was only Antonio who showed any emotion on his face. Catching Lovino's eye he winked, the sad smile back once more. Unable to stop himself, Lovino sent a rude gesture in his direction, the heat making him forget he was in a church. No one seemed to notice apart from Scipio who pursed his lips in annoyance, looking scarily like Viktor.

"Then we'll be off then _piccolo_." Roma said. He turned his gaze towards Matthias. "You have everything ready I assume?"

"Yep, sure do Boss." The man replied, puffing out his chest with pride. "Everything is ready to go."

"Good." Roma purred, turning next to the pastor with his curved smile. "Until next week Scipio. You will think about what we said won't you?"

"I shall certainly consider it in my daily prayers, Mr Vargas." His tone was dark and meaningful, Lovino got the feeling that he meant more than what he actually said. The blond brought out a key from his robes. "Here, let me walk you to the gate. I need to lock up for the day."

A church was always open but in this part of town it was not safe, everyone knew that. To get inside and pray they had to press bell. Before that the place had been robbed many times, even now people still got in and took stuff. All around the room were faded areas of wall that were different to the rest; someone had taken the objects and left tell tale marks where they had once been. It was sad that someone would do such a thing.

They walked down and out of the church. If Lovino had been hoping for outside to be cooler he was sadly disappointed, it was true that the air was not as frigid but it was still thick with heat and the sun glaring down on them made his head hurt.

"Wow, it's hot today!" Feliciano declared unhelpfully. He didn't seem to mind too much, probably because he hadn't forced to wear his suit like Lovino had and was in a thin shirt. "I wonder if it's this hot in Italy, I would love to find out! Scipio, what-"

Lovino wandered ahead, away from his brother's chattering and towards the gate of the churchyard, ready to leave the place and return home where he could sit in his room and not be disturbed. Antonio trailed after him much to his annoyance, wandering behind him with his hands tucked into his jacket pockets. A thoughtful look was on his face, Lovino contemplated asking what was on his mind, his mouth even opened before his brain caught up with him and he shut it again. He didn't care after all. It was bad enough that he'd had his own minor breakdown last night, he did not want the theme of heart to heart to continue, did he?

With an impatient click of his heel at his own lack of sense he turned and scanned the street, the heat haze shimmered on either side of him as if he was trapped inside a giant glass bowl, it would definitely explain the blasted heat anyway. He rubbed his hand across his face to remove the fine layer of sweat, his eyes still on the road and was suddenly shocked to find eyes looking back at him from a dark car across the street. At first he did not place the face but those eyebrows were unmistakeable even from a distance. Arthur was watching them in the churchyard.

He suddenly found the heat of the day even more oppressive, bearing down on him with an invisible weight. It was too hot. Arthur could not be here, he shouldn't be.

It was his fault, he had told him enough so that he could find him again. What an idiot he was! He'd said the name of the church and told him when they visited, of course that was enough for a policeman to find them. Lovino felt the air catch in his throat as he turned quickly to see if his Grandfather had noticed the car and the man within it. Roma was gazing in the direction of the idling vehicle with a dawning expression as if he was remembering something from long ago, something he had forgotten. Lovino snapped his gaze back to the car where Arthur sat with another man, probably his second in command, and he gave him the most discrete nod in Lovino's direction with an added smirk. He was painfully aware of his surroundings. And the heat, damn it why was it so hot?

"Lovi?" Antonio asked from somewhere beside him, his voice faraway. "Hey, are you okay? You don't look so good _mi amigo_."

No, no, no. This couldn't be happening. His Grandpa would see, he would know; he would know he had lied, that he had betrayed the family. Mad wouldn't even come close to how he'd be. He remembered the feel of the hands around his neck, the smell of the cigars on his breath as he bared down on him, the threat lingering in the air.

Surely he could hear the rumble of the cars motor, surely he would recognise the policeman on his own case. It was only a matter of time and then-

The heat was unbearable, stifling. It was like he was drowning the air was so thick. His Grandpa couldn't see him, he couldn't- black swelled at the edge of his vision- someone shouted something as he tumbled forward-

"...he..okay..?"

"...should call... doctor..."

The voices seemed to call out to his consciousness, muffled as though his was floundering in water. Slowly he surfaced and the darkness dissolved from his sight. It took Lovino a second to adjust to the new scope of vision, and a second more to realise he was on the floor, cradled in someone's arms. He was shaken to find he was surrounded by the others who had crouched down beside him, all but his Grandfather who kneeled in front of him, his expression troubled and his golden eyes worried.

"_Nonno_?" He mumbled, feeling disorientated his fell into the Italian words without meaning to. They were the comfort and warmth of his childhood and they were out of his mouth before he could stop them. "_Cosa __è successo_?"

Roma's face cracked into a small smile and he took his hand in his own.

"_Sì_, Lovi. Grandpa is here." He replied softly almost breathlessly. "I was hoping you could tell me. You fainted onto the dirty floor. Almost gave your poor _Nonno_ a heart attack."

He glanced around him; Feliciano was hovering tearfully on his left with an expressionless Ludwig stood behind him. His brother was pale and drawn and his lip trembled a little. The pastor and Viktor were on his right. He had a clear view of the road behind them but there was no car waiting for them. Either he had imagined it all or Arthur had taken his accidental distraction and used it to get away, he breathed an inward sigh of relief.

"Sorry Grandpa," He apologised after a pause. He did not fake the tremor in his voice as he answered."I was so hot and dizzy and then I don't remember-"

"Minor heat stroke." Scipio muttered, his intelligent sapphire eyes dark in the shade. They turned to his Grandfather. "You should take him home Roma, it's not healthy for any of us to be standing around in this weather."

His Grandpa didn't look at the man, instead keeping his eyes focused on his face, his hand still clasped in his own. Lovino wanted to draw away after what happened the last time Roma had held his hands but he didn't have the energy. He felt weak and shaky, his pulse beating loudly in his ear, whether it was the heat or the shock of seeing Arthur again he didn't know.

"Yes, yes. We'll leave now." Roma muttered, sounding as drained as he felt. He looked up to the person holding him as he got to his feet. "Antonio, will you carry him to the car?"

If Lovino had not initially felt ashamed of passing out like a little girl, he did now. He was laid on Antonio, he should have known, he was the only one he couldn't see. Damn it if he was going to be carried around like some baby by his stupid bodyguard.

"I'll stand on my own," he snapped but before he knew it he was being lifted from the floor as if he weighed nothing. He was positive he saw Scipio snigger, god if his day couldn't get any worse. "Grandpa, please tell him-"

"No Lovi!" Roma's tone was firm and his eyes hard. "You are too weak to walk to the car, Antonio will take you."

And that was that. He was stuck curled like a child in the Spaniard's arms, trying to avoid looking anywhere but his face and failing; it was a hard task when the guys head was directly above his face. Antonio's face was set in a passive expression but his green eyes were troubled once again. He carried him over to the car while Roma and the others said their goodbyes to Scipio. They were very much alone when Antonio spoke.

"You don't have heat stroke, do you?"

Unable to stop himself Lovino flinched like the words had scalded him. Had it been that obvious? "Screw you, what the hell would you know?"

Antonio was very quiet as he slowed down his speed, his arms still firm around him so he wouldn't fall. His silly hair dangled low in his eyes.

"I know I am the last person you want to talk to right now," he said quietly. "But I want you to know that you can tell me anything. I could help you Lovino, I wouldn't get mad or annoyed. I want to help you, I am your friend-"

"I don't have friends." Lovino corrected him harshly. It was cruel but his mouth had already hissed the words before he could consider their effect. Part of him didn't care, this was the idiot that had brought his Grandfather to him the night before even though he was meant to protect him.

But a defiant part of him grumbled that this was also the man that helped him downstairs, that wanted to make him laugh, that caught him when he fell. When he said he wanted to help he was being deadly serious, and he had just thrown it back in his face.

They waited in a pregnant silence for the others to return so that they could open the car door, Antonio's hands were full of Lovino and even though he should have dropped him for what he had said he didn't, his arms staying still around him. His body was warm and close, but not in the overwhelming and powerful way his Grandfather's had been but in a consistent and comforting manner. His jacket smelt had the hint of a spicy cologne, with an underscore of Antonio's own smell, which was also familiar but he couldn't place it.

"I'm sorry." Lovino mumbled, barely above a breath but somehow Antonio heard him as if he had been waiting for him to say it all along. His chest buzzed as he hummed pleasantly, the sound louder and more welcome to his ear than the sound of his returning family.

"I understand Lovi," he replied in a low tone. "Probably more than you know."

oOo

**I'm tired and it's midnight here in the UK as I upload this so I'll make it quick xD**  
><strong>Thanks for reading another longish chapter! Thanks for putting up with me! Thanks for reviews and adds! And thank you to my lovely beta who I like to bounce ideas off for creepy Roma and see her squirm muwhahaha<strong>

**Hasta la pasta!~**

**Translations** (may be wrong: thank you google translate!)  
><strong>amico- friend<strong>

**piccolo- Little one**

**Cosa è successo?- What happened?**


	12. The Spice House

**I'ma baaack ;D Sorry this took so long! Good news is I've finished all my essays for a few months so I'm now free and relaxing until next semester SMUG**  
><strong>This didn't come out exactly as I wanted it. I'm not very confident writing the Asian chapters because I'm not sure how half of the characters are meant to act. I had to do a bit of internet searching to find out and even then... urgh...<strong>

**NOTE ON LAST CHAPTER**  
><strong>Did anyone see Holy Rome? :L He was there! Blink and you'll have missed him but he was there :') Just wondered if anyone had noticed!<strong> (cough Scipio!)  
><strong>Thank you so much for all the reviews and adds!<strong>

**Congrants to Silan Haye for being the 50th reviewer! The fanfiction oneshot is in production and I should have it up by next chapter :) Hope you'll all read that too :D** **If it goes well I may offer to do another when I get to 150 reviews. Yes the story will be that long :') Currently have 59 chapters planned. ENJOY.**

**Vietnam- Lian**  
><strong>Hong Kong- Xiang<strong>  
><strong>Thailand- Niran<strong>

**Disclaimer: Hetalia is not mine :)**

oOo

"And this is the main warehouse." Yao explained as they entered the large room.

It was rectangular in shape and had a large door that was open to the elements as people bustled in, the heat drifting through the opening like a smog. Looking up Kiku noted that there was a walkway above them where people manned the cranes to take the larger packages off their respective holders and into the room itself. At the back of the large room was a huge pile of goods, all labelled and ready to go. There was not as much as he would have expected to find in a room of this size and judging by the smell there were mainly spices and such, shipped over from over seas and brought to the city via the river. The workers that bustled around were mainly of oriental decent and chatted brightly in their native tongues, the sound of their voices mixing in with the grind of the machinery and the shrill cry of the sea birds outside that centred themselves around the river basin.

Kiku took all of this in then turned his gaze back to the older man. Stood up, Yao was only slightly taller than himself, but he was hunched slightly over a walking stick which created the illusion that he was shorter than he seemed. His dark hair was tied off his face and he wore a casual jade green hanfu. Kiku watched him closely, he did not like the idea of the ill man being out of bed and wandering around when he was so sick. Even with Feliks wandering beside them, looking at his nails in boredom, he did not feel safe. He wanted nothing more than to have Yao lay down but the man was as stubborn as a mule and had refused to let him wait another day before showing him around. No matter how many times he had suggested someone else show him, the man had insisted that he do it.

"Well that's it I suppose." Yao said sadly, turning to face him and smiling. "Do you like it?"

"It is very efficient looking." Kiku said, bowing his head slightly. "I look forward to working with everyone here."

The older man hummed a response as he fiddled with the dragon shaped head on his walking stick, his gaze far away. He looked at Kiku but it he did not see him. As he looked at the men and women of the factory, Kiku knew that Yao was thinking about what his business had been like before the fiasco with the police. He wondered what the room had been like before the business had started losing money. He hoped to change that.

"Hey, Mr Wang! What are you doing out of bed?"

Yao and Kiku turned to face the owner of the voice who had come behind them. He was a young man with a dynamic expression on his face, his dark hair swept back off his forehead with only one defiant strand sticking up. He seemed to have not noticed the run away hair as he grinned at them. Kiku noted that his eyes looked sad behind all the bravado.

"Ahh, there you are." Yao said, a tired edge to his voice. "I'm just showing our new member here around. Kiku, this is Im Yong Soo. He's the leader of the group that transports the good to our clients and is a very good friend of mine. Yong Soo this is Kiku Honda. "

Yong Soo bowed lazily, standing back up slowly. Unlike Yao he was dressed in a modern pinstriped navy suit which was very finely tailored and expensive looking.

"Welcome to the business, Sir." He said respectfully but his eyes fixed on the elder man with intensity. "You could have asked one of us Mr Wang, we would have been happy to show the new guy around. You shouldn't be up in your condition-"

He was stopped short as Yao rapped his walking stick on the floor with such intensity that the men working near by looked up in alarm. His face was flushed in sudden annoyance as he looked at the younger man, his dark eyes glinting furiously.

"I am not a child Yong Soo, do not treat me as such." As he spoke Kiku noted the shake in his arms and the faint sweat on his brow. "I am not dead yet, this business is still mine. If I cannot show people around then what can I do?"

Yong Soo was the only one in the room that did not look surprised at his tone, it was almost as if he was used to the treatment. He had only tried to be thoughtful, the hurt smouldered in his brown eyes and him lips set in a firm line as if holding back the words that wanted to spill from his mouth. Kiku wondered what he would say in response to Yao's words, perhaps he would explode and yell? Although it seemed not as then next second the young man bowed again, lower this time so that his expression could not be seen.

"My apologies Sir." He offered without looking up. His voice sounded strained. "I was concerned for your welfare."

Yao sniffed hard through his nose, a flicker of pain flashing across his face. "I do not need your concern yet Yong Soo."

His hands shook violently on the walking stick, their thin pale digits twitching like the last movements of a dying spider. His hair was greasy and the bags under his eyes were more prominent in the brightness of the open air. He needed all the concern he could get. As if nothing had transpired Yao turned towards Kiku, a small smile on his face.

"I'm sorry my boy," he said lightly. "I am going to have to leave you with Yong Soo. I- I have a lot of paperwork to complete and it needs to be done. You don't mind?"

He was not feeling well obviously, the set of his jaw and the shake of his hands were a give away. And he would not just leave him with a stranger, especially after he had just thrown a fit to get his own way and assert his rights as the boss. He must have not wanted to show weakness in front of him, it was worrying because Kiku knew that as soon as he went back to his room he might be ill again.

"There is no problem." He nodded. Yao smiled at his understanding and without another word to the other man he turned and went in the direction of the house that was attached to the front of the building where they both lived. Kiku watched him go, closely followed by Feliks. The nurse winked at him once and he flinched in response but they were soon away.

Yong Soo straightened up as soon as the door closed behind the pair, a sigh escaping from his lips. His forehead creased in worry as he watched the door as if expecting it to open again. He turned to Kiku with an attempt at a bright smile although it lacked the lustre that it previously had.

"Come on let me show you the rest of the gang."

oOo

Yong Soo was leading him to a room in between the house and the warehouse itself which was on the ground floor but hidden away behind a curtain covered passage. The man spoke as he walked, his hands waving in the air.

"We cover the door way because we don't want the workers getting in." He explained. The short hallway was empty but Kiku was sure he heard voices coming from behind the plain door at the end. "This is where we hold our business meetings for our more, shall we say discrete, customers."

He stopped before the door, his hand resting on the handle but not moving. When Yong Soo turned to look at him his eyes were morose.

"Mr Honda, what do you think of Yao?" The question caught him off guard and he had to think a while before he decided to speak. Even then he was not comfortable with the situation; what was he supposed to say?

"I think Mr Wang is a good man and I am proud to be his godson." He replied evenly. Yong Soo shook his head lightly, the flyaway strand of hair bobbing up and down at the movement.

"No, I mean what do you think about his illness?" He corrected himself. His expression was worried, they must have been close him and Yao at some point before he got ill. Then again he must have liked him to stay when everyone else was deserting him. Something was holding Yong Soo to this place, the same for Mei. Both of them could easily have futures somewhere else, a place where they wouldn't have to put up with poor business and could work and live well.

Kiku returned his gaze with equal measure. "Mr Wang is a very sick man and is too stubborn to admit it."

If anything Yong Soo seemed disappointed at his response but could say no more on it as the door he was leaning against suddenly opened. For a second a brief spasm of confusion flashed across his face and the next he was falling sideways, Kiku made no move to stop his fall. He thudded to the ground with a crash and the person who had opened the door screamed.

It was the girl from before, Mei. She looked surprised to have a body fall on her but even more at the sight of Kiku stood behind Yong Soo, feeling very flustered because he should have done the honourable thing and stopped his fall.

"Damn it Mei," Yong Soo cursed from the floor. He knelt back onto his knees to look up at the girl in annoyance, his hair no longer swept back but hanging limply on his forehead. "What on earth did you open the door for?"

"We heard voices and we wondered who it was." She said, getting over her initial shock and speaking sternly like a mother addressing a child. "What were _you_ doing lingering behind the door?"

"Talking." He replied gruffly as he got to his feet. Mei moved back to allow him to enter the room and Kiku followed after a quick bow in her direction. The room was large but the space was commanded by the presence of a long rounded table with seats places around it. The walls were painted a welcoming and bright white, however on one wall someone had painted Chinese symbols, probably of good health and fortune knowing Yao. Kiku could see why the room was used for meetings; it gave everything away. It was clear and honest, just like Yao would want his partners to believe his business was.

The door opened out onto one end of the large table where two other people were sat, surrounded by paperwork and files. They looked up as they entered, one was a man probably in his late twenties with dark hair and a cheerful face. He wore glasses and seemed to have a larger pile of work placed before him than the other boy who was sat at the table. Kiku searched the others face curiously before realising why he looked so familiar, the boy had Yao's face shape and his dark eyes hidden under thick eyebrows however he did not seem as welcoming, his gaze was far away and distant.

"Everyone this is Kiku Honda. Kiku, this is Niran, he's our financial expert." Mei explained pointing to the man with the glasses as Yong Soo took a seat. Niran waved as Kiku bowed in greeting. "And this is Xiang, he's Yao's son."

The young man did not seem impressed with this introduction and hastened to add, "I run my own side business."

"You sell hats." Yong Soo scoffed, lightly hitting the younger boy over the head. "Hardly a business Xiang."

He swiped him away angrily, pulling a face not unlike the one Yao had used earlier. On his younger and stronger features it was quite intimidating but Yong Soo didn't seem to notice.

"I manage production and marketing of the hats too." Xiang argued with a pout. Mei patted him on the shoulder, probably attempting to be comforting but to Kiku it just looked patronising and by the look on Xiang's face he probably thought the same. With a roll of his eyes Yong Soo turned to look at Kiku, his face adorned with a smile.

"So Kiku," he began with a conversational tone. It made him want to scratch himself, he was not looking forward to this chat. "How are you finding this place? Enjoying yourself before the real work begins?"

Kiku bowed his head respectfully as he spoke. "This place is very agreeable to me. I have yet to see the work but I fully believe I am up to any job Mr Wang sets me."

"How is your Russian?" Niran asked politely. After the introductions had been made he had buried his head back into his work but it seemed he was listening after all. "We might have to pay them a visit soon, too much red in the book-"

"Niran please, don't bore the guy." Yong Soo interrupted crossing his arms. "When I started talking about work it was a conversation starter, I wasn't being serious."

"No, you were just being nosy and trying to weedle information out of him." Mei corrected coming to stand behind him. She touched him lightly on the arm which he didn't mind too much, she wasn't in his space like Feliks anyway. "Please take a seat Kiku, you look so awkward just stood there."

He did as requested, sitting himself next to Xiang and opposite Yong Soo which he realised after was a pretty bad choice. It gave the other man at easier vantage point for him to sit and grin at him inanely and he could positively feel the annoyance radiating off the younger man at his other side.

"Why don't you tell us about yourself Kiku?" Mei said kindly as she took the seat on his other side making him feel slightly boxed in. He licked his lips. He did not mind sitting with people but he hated it when all the attention fell on him and he had to contribute. It would be different when he was working because that was work and he would always try his best at that, besides he would not be required to talk about himself to customers; it would be all business.

He hesitated. "What do you want to know?"

"Where abouts in America are you from?" Mei asked. "You said you had a long journey."

Places and time. He could do this.

"I did, it took me a few days what with the bus timetables." He said. "The weather was an extreme hindrance, most of the vehicles broke down in the heat. I was lucky to get here as quick as I did. And I am from Portland. My family moved there after the war."

"From Japan?"

He nodded quickly, hoping they would drop the subject and was very pleased when they did.

"Yao is your godfather right?" Yong Soo asked. Beside him Xiang made a sudden movement like a flinch but when he turned to look at him he seemed engrossed in his work; he must have imagined it. Honestly these personal questions were making him jumpy.

"He is." Kiku agreed with a slight dip of the head. Yong Soo looked impressed but couldn't say another word as at that moment a girl walked in the room without knocking. Her hair was unfashionably long and tied behind her head in one braid. She walked oddly to Kiku, with the self assured swagger of a man but in the body of a female.

She approached the table swiftly, her eyes fixed on Xiang with intensity.

"Lien?" The boy questioned, his dark eyes narrowing. His fingers gripped the edge of the table hard and his knuckles turned white, her sudden appearance seemed to throw him off guard and his usually distant expression zoned back into the world. "What's wrong?"

"A telegram for you Mr Wang." Her voice was higher than Kiku had thought, he had been expecting a throaty man's voice because of her appearance but in reality her tone was as soft and gentle as a breeze. "Just arrived. I think it's to do with the transfer."

Xiang cursed under his breath and turned to the table apologetically. "Sorry, I really have to take this one guys."

"Go ahead, Mr Business." Yong Soo taunted with a wink. The boys face contorted in anger briefly before he stood up to leave.

He turned to Kiku as he rounded the table. "I'm sorry we cannot talk for longer. It would be nice to get to know my new relative. Welcome to the family, Kiku."

And with that he was gone as quickly as Lien had entered, she followed behind him doggedly in his heels with her hands clasped behind her back. When the door closed behind them Mei sighed and shook her head.

"Honestly, he works too hard." She muttered worriedly, her hands twisting on her lap. "He'll end up like Yao one of these days if he'd not careful."

"Who was that?" Kiku inwardly cursed at the question. It was not his place to ask questions to these people he barely knew. These western ideals were rubbing off on him, his mother would be disappointed in him.

No one seemed to notice his expression and answered him regardless.

"That's Lien, she's Xiang's personal aid." Niran said, his face still in his work. He was surprised he had even noticed her entrance. "They went to school together and she helps him run his little venture. Xiang roped her in when he realised Yao didn't want him working for the company all his life."

"You make it sound terrible," Mei scolded hotly. "Mr Wang only wanted his son to make his own way and not live in his shadow for all his life. He encouraged him to make his own business that way when the time came he would be able to manage both his own and his father's."

Yong Soo chuckled. "I don't think Xiang took it that way Mei."

She turned to him angrily, her face firing up as she opened her mouth. He took it all with a grin on his face and Niran just read his work. Watching them Kiku felt a kind of bond he very rarely experienced outside his own family, the feeling he had associated with being at home suddenly flared in his stomach. As the argument increased and he had nothing to say he smiled slightly, sinking into the shadows. Yes he could be very content here.

oOo

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Sorry it took so long :) **  
><strong>Hopefully the next one will be up sometime this week beginning of next where we see Lovi and Antonio again :D**

**Reviews much appreciated!**

**Hasta la pasta~**


	13. Nocturne

**Using my beta's laptop to upload because I'm sat here and it's done :') And I'm lazy. **  
><strong>The next chapter won't be up until the one shot is done. I refuse to start it until it's done :I must work harder!<strong>

**Thank you to all reviews and adds. They make me very happy! Always need more- feedback fires up my mind and makes me write faster :D That and food but that's another story :')**

**Disclaimer- not mine obvs.**

oOo

As soon as they'd returned to the apartment he had been shepherded into bed by his Grandfather and had been dozing on his orders. He drifted in and out of sleep, never quite sinking under, his mind too full of worries to allow full sleep despite his tiredness when the rising chords of a piano stirred him from his rest. The pull of the instrument brought him back to the real world with a frustrated sigh and he sat up on his bed knowing that he would be unable to sleep with the noise.

He was anxious. The knot of trepidation he had after Mass still shifted within him like a snake writhing in his stomach. The presence of the police at the churchyard had gone thankfully unnoticed but he was not out of danger yet. He was painfully aware that they could easily find the house and watch them there too. How much had they already seen? Surely Mathias was on some wanted lists. The fact that Roma was interacting with him couldn't be good for his reputation, and he was always at the house for some reason or another along with his own lackeys, again probably wanted men. For anyone watching from the outside it would be all too clear what might be going on in the inside.

Like that mattered to the police. If Arthur was after his Grandpa that meant he had enough prior evidence to warrant an investigation or even just charge him straight away. Lovino wondered how long Arthur had been after him. To his knowledge his Grandfather had been involved in the criminal activities for as long as he had lived. He had not been as reluctant as he was to be involved in the dealings of the family and had been proud to take over from his own father. The crimes he had committed, or at least organised, would span back through the years.

Lovino swung his legs out of bed and stood up, thankful that he had thought to change out of his suit and into looser clothes that did not cause him to overheat. The room itself had the windows thrown wide to invite in the breeze but even then it was still boiling hot in the house.

Slowly he made his way towards the door and opened it, the noise of the piano becoming more clear now the door did not muffle its progress. It was a calming rhythm but not played well, as though inexperienced hands were running themselves over the keys. As he listened the tune stopped and started again as Feliciano was made to repeat the same line of notes. Of course, his brother's piano lesson was a usual occurrence on a Sunday afternoon. His Grandfather liked to hear the music after church, for that purpose he had placed the music room next to his office so that the sound would be louder as he worked.

Looking up and down the corridor Lovino was surprised to find that it was empty. He scoffed to himself as he thought of Antonio; the guy was meant to be his bodyguard and he definitely wasn't doing much guarding. Crossing his arms in annoyance he wondered whether he was taking a siesta or something in his room. Should he knock? It was right next door-

No, of course not. Let the idiot sleep. It would be his own fault if something happened and this time Lovino would not be the one to blame. He stormed past his door without even a second glance and headed towards the stairs. The bright sunlight bared down through the sunroof as he mounted the stairs. The going was not as tough now his wounds were starting to heal and the bruises disappearing from his skin yet his legs still felt weak from the fall and it took longer than usual to reach the top floor.

The third floor of the building was always darker than the rest of the house, his Grandfather liked to keep the doors shut at all times and there was no window at the end of the hall like there was on the floor below. It was always dark and dreary and Lovino avoided it when he could. However at that moment light was flaring in through the open door of the music room from where the noise came from, now he was closer he could hear the dull chatter of voices over the brassy tones of the grand piano.

He walked to the door and walked in. He had not been in the room for a very long time but it was still the same as he had last seen it all those months ago. It was a large room, big enough to house the simple black grand that took up a full length of the wall. It was very well lit from the outside by large bay windows, the white walls reflecting the rays of light and making the top of the piano's shiny surface gleam. Curtains fluttered in the breeze and seemed to almost move in time to the music the Feliciano played. He was sat at the piano with Roderich who was patiently instructing him, occasionally correcting him in a calm tone. His brother had only been playing for a few months but he was already quite good. On his entrance the younger boy looked up from the keys happily.

"Lovino, you're up!" Feliciano ran from around the piano and straight into him, hugging him tightly across the middle. "Did you sleep okay? Do you feel better? I hope you do, it was scary and I didn't like it but it was very lucky 'Toni was stood so close to catch you-"

"Jeez Feli, take a breath." He muttered, patting his little brother on the head. He shook his own in despair, half tempted to throw the other boy off him out of irritation. He was surprised to find that the use of "'Toni" was like acid to him, burning him slightly and leaving an itch. It shouldn't have aggravated him but for some reason it did. Perhaps it was because it was too familiar, even though the man was trying to be his friend he could not stop himself from pushing the other man away. The name coming out of his brother's mouth was like a horrid reminder that he was here to stay and he had to put up with him, possibly even like him.

Antonio himself was sat by the window, busy not being a bodyguard and watching his charge's little brother play the piano instead. The thought irritated him. Oblivious to his annoyance, he grinned and waved at him before returning back to his chat with Ludwig who was also sat down watching the practise. Lovino resisted the urge to throw something heavy at his stupid face.

"Will you play with us?" Feliciano begged, dragging him over to the side of the piano to face Roderich. The dark haired man considered him for a moment with a critical eye.

"If your brother is unwell he should not play." He said curtly as he shuffled the music sheets on the piano. Behind his glasses his gaze was almost testing him, and Lovino took the bait. He shouldn't have but he did not like the butler looking at him in such a way, it made a bubble of anger rise in his stomach.

"I'm fine." He snapped. He bunched his hands together in fists at his side. This was not about his fall he knew it.

For a long time when he was younger Lovino enjoyed playing instruments. It was one of the only past times that his Grandfather approved of and he found himself learning to play a variety of instruments on a regular basis. He loved the thrill of playing and the feel of the notes escaping his fingers. But he gave it when he had turned twenty. Roderich had been very disappointed and had been trying to get him to play again for a long time, he always refused but today was a different matter. He was frustrated and needed an outlet.

Ignoring the shaky feeling in legs he turned and stomped the length of the room to a desk, hidden partway behind the door. It housed the sheet music for the piano and the other instruments that they owned, one in particular had always been Lovino's favourite and it was this he took from its holder.

"What are we playing?" He demanded as he turned back around with the violin clasped between his hands. It had been a while since he had played but he was confident he still could, he doubted he could have forgotten so easily. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the two bodyguards turn to watch them curiously and he pointedly ignored them, storming back over to stand next to the piano.

Feliciano gave a small cheer of pleasure as Roderich's thin lips curled into an elegant smile. "Master Feli needs to practise his rhythms for me. Would you play us something over the top? It'll help him to deal with the distractions and timing."

"Sure." Lovino brought the violin into position and quickly made sure it was tuned properly which it was. Roderich was a music lover and would regularly tune the instruments even if no one was using them. "Ready when you are."

Feliciano cracked his fingers and settled to play the keys. His first finger strokes on the ivory would have sounded hesitant and poorly played to the ears of a novice but Lovino sighed at the familiar cords, holding back a smile. It was the song that his brother had always pestered him to play. The room seemed to hold its breath as he brought up the bow and touched them to the strings.

He was right; he had not forgotten how to play. The tune was sombre and melancholic and seemed to wrap itself around his frame as he played; the music reflecting the master, the master reflecting the music. The hum of the violin demanded more attention than his own voice could ever muster, calling out to the room and the rest of the house. As he played Lovino found himself wandering, the notes reflecting his movements almost like a dance. It was a bad habit he had gotten into when he first started playing as a child, it helped him keep time in the same way that the ticking of a clock helped others measure their rhythm. When he moved the music lived through him, starting at his fingers and reaching down to his feet and guiding him. As he continued he became less aware of the room and his surroundings, blocking out Roderich's instructions to his brother and focusing on his own task. When he played he lost all feeling he had within himself and felt as if the very spirit of the music moved through him straight through his very soul.

It was one of the main reasons why he had stopped playing. He was reluctant because he knew that he could not lose himself, even for a moment. He had to remain focused and clear. He could not falter or let himself be taken along, no matter how comforting the feeling was, how free he felt. Part of him wanted to stop but the music commanded he play onwards, drawing out each note with dedication and care until the song was over.

Feliciano ceased his turn on the piano to allow his solo, Lovino carried on regardless barely noticing the change. He controlled the violin, commanding the notes into a higher pitch and making them hover in the air. Lovino became aware that at some point he had closed his eyes and opened them. He was surprised to find he had been facing Antonio, the bodyguard's eyes were a wide expanse of green and his mouth was open slightly. He kept his gaze, confused at the emotions he saw racing across the Spaniard's features and even more confused by the sudden swell in his heart as he looked at the other man, tracing the fine curves of his face-

His brother started up his tune again. Without even thinking about it, Lovino's hand raised the bow to continue the song, he turned his back on Antonio and his staring. His cheeks were flushed, the look on Antonio's face troubled him. Was he actually not a good player? Did his playing repulse him? He shouldn't have cared but he found himself embarrassed and confused. The notes of the violin came out in a loud jumble as his fingers twitched along the bow, his legs were shaking suddenly and his heart beat in his ears.

No, it was footsteps. Hurried foot fall pounded down the corridor straight towards them just as the song was finishing. Lovino drew back in surprise as his Grandfather burst into the room like a mad man, his face flushed and angry. When his golden eyes settled on the sight of him with the violin clasped in his hands they positively burned.

"Lovino, what are you doing out of bed?" He demanded. Viktor hovered behind him, his calm expression contrasting with the furious one on his Grandpa's face. "You are meant to be resting, not playing musician."

"He was helping me practise Grandpa," Feliciano said quietly from the piano. He bit his lip a little as Roma's gaze turned to him with equal intensity. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed both Antonio and Ludwig stand up, the blond edging his way forward to stand closer to his charge. His face was as cool and impassive as Viktor's but there was a cool frost in his eyes and a tightness to his lips. Lovino flinched as Antonio touched his elbow lightly. He turned to scowl at him but the Spaniard's eyes were also fixed on Roma and he was surprised to see a wary anger in their green depths.

His Grandfather's face was very red. "_Idiota_! Did you not see what happened at the church? Are you blind? _Dio_ Feliciano!"

His little brother's eyes widened and he cowered under his gaze. Lovino watch on in horror, his Grandfather never shouted at Feliciano, even when he needed punishing he only got a small lecture in contrast to when he had done something wrong and he'd got a smack for his troubles. The sight made his nerves bubble; he would not allow him to scare his little brother and make him feel like he made him feel. He did not want what had happened to him the other day happen to him, he could not let that happen to him.

He shook off Antonio lightly and stepped in his Grandfather's line of vision so that he blocked Feliciano with his body. Roma looked shocked to see him and blinked as if struggling to process what was going on.

"Grandpa please," He said surprising himself with how calm his voice was. "I wanted to play. I haven't played in such a long time and I wanted to show Antonio and Ludwig. I'm sorry if I scared you _Nonno_."

At first he thought he hadn't got through, that he was still mad, but then his expression cleared and he visibly relaxed. He had been leaning forward a little and he straightened up to his full height, gazing down at him thoughtfully.

"_Nonno_ just wants his little boys to be safe." He said quietly after a long pause. He smiled slightly and spread his arms wide. "I'm sorry for yelling. Hug?"

Without a thought Lovino pressed himself to his body, Feliciano scampered out from behind the piano after a moment's hesitation and he crushed them both together. He caught his brother's eye as their faces pressed to his chest and Feli mouthed a quick 'thank you' before they were pushed to arms length. Roma brushed their cheeks lightly with a sigh as he looked down at them.

"Feli, play a song for Grandpa?" He asked the younger sibling. As if nothing had happened he smiled widely.

"_Sì_!" He chirped and rushed back to Roderich at the piano. Roma watched him go then turned to Lovino, fingering the soft flesh his cheek again, worry creasing in his forehead.

"You don't look well Lovi." His Grandpa commented, his hand slinking down his body as he spoke to rest on his hip. Behind them the music started back up. "I need you to be well. Please go to rest, for me?"

It was true, he wasn't feeling great. The fainting attack earlier had left him feeling weak in the legs and it was taking all his willpower to stay standing and not sink to the floor in exhaustion. Then there was the stupid look on Antonio's face as he had played the violin, he knew he shouldn't let it get to him but it had hurt him somewhere and he couldn't shake the feeling off. He was confused by what it meant but he wouldn't dare ask. If anything this knowledge made him feel worse than the rest.

He bowed his head submissively, pushing his thoughts aside. "Yes Grandpa."

oOo

**If anyone would like to know the song they're playing look on my profile for a link. It's called Nocturne by Chopin. The pause is 2:11 (after the solo) or at least that's how I see it :L Hope I did an okay job of explaining it. I couldn't go too much into it without making Lovi sound like a stuck up ass so here it is :') Love this songgg!**

**Reviews would be most welcome people :D Creepy Rome will pay all who don't a visit ;D**

**Next chapter 'would you like some pasta mr. policeman?' Seriously ;D**


	14. Respite

**Garghh sorry this took a while I was busy with the 50th reviewer one shot :)**  
><strong>That's now up if any of you would like to read it :D It's called 'I don't believe in ghosts'. Fluffy spamano again :')<br>It's pretty big but I'd appreciate it if you'd read it :D Thanks!**

Many many thanks to the reviewers and adds for the last chapter :)  
>They make me so happy I read them more than once sometimes. I especially love the readers who like to put their thoughts on what's going to happen in the rest of the story such as for plot and characters! It always surprises me how close you all are to the truth sometimes ;D<br>Many thanks! Hope you enjoy this kind of filler chapter :)

**Disclaimer: Hetalia does not belong to me**

oOo

The morning air was clear and bright and held none of the over powering heat of the day before. The streets were calm as people went about their daily business in the most civilised manner possible. A young man rounded the corner, away from the hustle of the more public street, and onto the back road where the apartment was situated.

Feliciano skipped brightly along the pavement, his arms wrapped around the bag of shopping clutched to his chest filled to the brim with ingredients for the night's meal. His eyes were not focused on the path before him but on the kitchen and the preparations ahead. Ludwig walked slightly behind him struggling to keep pace with the cheerful boy; his blue eyes flicked around their surroundings as he checked for threats. Under one arm he too carried a bag, the other hand rested casually on his hip where he knew a gun was nestled snugly in the fold of his jacket, ready to whip out at any possible moment. Feliciano didn't seem to notice his bodyguard's restlessness, as he had paused and was preoccupied with the sight of two butterflies fluttering across their vision. Their blue, bird like bodies glinted in the early light of the sun briefly before they flitted off, their tails dipping to aid their flight.

"Master Feliciano, please slow down." Roderich's voice called, breaking through the moment. The pair turned to see the tall dark haired man huffing in annoyance, two shopping bags held under his arms seemingly weighing him down to a slow trot. His face was pink and riled.

The younger boy grinned widely. "Sorry Roderich!"

"I have the keys to the door," the butler reminded him as he drew closer, his eyebrows arched perfectly over his angular face. He struggled to keep his formality with the young boy, reverting to the tone of a nettled school master. "You won't be able to get in without me."

Feliciano danced lightly on his feet in impatience as he was scolded, his mind obviously not on the conversation at hand and back to the kitchen. Beside him Ludwig observed this and sighed to himself, looking frustrated, especially so when his charge wandered off again; quickly and alone. Feeling lost he nodded his head slightly in the older man's direction before hurrying off to catch up with him.

"You shouldn't wander off, Mr Vargas." He chose to adopt his sternest tone in an attempt to get through to the other boy. They might have been the same age but he was honestly beginning to wonder whether the other was trying to get himself into trouble. "I am meant to be protecting you and-"

"How many times, Ludwig?" Feliciano interrupted him with a playful laugh, his amber eyes glinting in the sun like little coins in his round face. "Please call me Feli. We're in the same classes at school, it's silly." Thinking of school must have made his train of thought change tracks. "Isn't it nice of Grandpa to let us have the day off?"

Ludwig hummed a response. Personally he would have preferred to be at school where the dangers were a lot less and he didn't have to stress about his oblivious charge running into the road or something worse. Speaking of which, Feliciano had suddenly gone stiff, his eyes fixed on the road ahead at a dark car that rested at the curb across from the apartment.

Looking closer Ludwig could see the occupants of the cars, two blond men, staring up at the house as if watching the windows for activity. Things weren't right. What were they doing? It was not normal to sit in a car without moving, especially on such a private estate. Maybe they worked for Mr Vargas in some way and were just waiting for him, or an associate to leave. That must be it-

Suddenly Feliciano turned from him and crossed the road without looking, walking straight up to the car purposefully without the usual skip in his step.

"Feliciano wait!" He groaned as he tried to rush after him but a car crossed in front of him beeping angrily. He mouthed an apology to the driver cursing himself inwardly. Rule one of being a bodyguard, never let your charge out of your sight. He thanked his lucky stars his Grandfather had not seen such a rudimentary slip up, he would definitely be punished for something so stupid. He had to stop Feliciano from doing something reckless.

By the time he had rounded the vehicle the brunette had reached the parked car and was tapping cheerfully on the window, grinning like a moron into the glass. The man in the passenger seat where he knocked stared at him for a long second before winding down the glass and peering up at the boy expectantly. Ludwig groaned to himself, this was not going well. He rushed to his side.

"Is there something I can help you with kid?" The man had straight blond hair across green eyes. He chewed a toothpick at the corner of his mouth nonchalantly as he eyed Feliciano up and down. Ludwig quickly scanned his suit for any protrusions on his person that would signify a gun and his heart almost stopped when he found one. _Scheiße_.

He stepped in front of his charge before he could speak, attempting a smile for the man which probably turned into a leer. It was possible these men were working for the family but with the Russians out to get them he couldn't take any chances."I think my friend has had a case of mistaken identity sirs. My apologies."

"Aw, Ludwig you called me your friend!" Feliciano said brightly poking his head around his body to look back in the car. "Although you're wrong. These men were at the church yesterday, I remember their car. I wanted to ask them why they were there."

Ludwig looked down at the vehicle in question and tried to remember if he had seen it at all yesterday. Eventually the memory came to him of a car at the side of the road that had left when Lovino had passed out. He had not really been paying too much attention to it in the situation, too preoccupied with holding back Feliciano as the boys grandfather charged to the elder one's side. The look on his face had been murderous and Ludwig had thought it wise to keep the boy away from him.

The man they were speaking to looked sidelong at the other and they shared a glance, he turned back to face them looking bored. "Sorry kid, don't know what you're talking about."

He started to wind back up the window but Feliciano thrust his hand into the hole before he could get it fully up, a large smile plastering his face. Inside the car the other man sighed.

"For goodness sake Captain, just shut the window." The other man was also blond but his hair was closer to the colour of straw, he was holding a smoking a cigarette with one hand and twirling the lighter with the other. His eyes were fixed directly on the front door on the apartment with the intensity of a cat waiting for a mouse to come out of its hole, his eyes predatory under thick eyebrows. The formal term sent Ludwig's senses spirally dangerously.

Feliciano seemed to get there about the same time that he did. "Oh, you're policemen?"

The man with the thick eyebrows swore in vexation and turned to look at them for the first time. When his green eyes fell on Feliciano they widened in slight shock and his mouth opened into a perfect circle, but then they returned to their previous irritated gaze and he pouted.

"Leave off lad." The man had a British accent. He had to lean over the Captain for him to be heard properly. "Go back home-"

"Would you like some pasta while you stake out our house, Mr Policeman?" The younger boy interrupted before he could be told to leave. His eyes were too bright, his smile too wide and Ludwig did not like the false simper to his voice.

There was a long moment of awkward silence. Ludwig stared at his charge in shock and the police looked open mouthed at the young boy before them, he was certain he saw the Captain's eye twitch. Eventually the older man seemed to pull himself together with a shake of his head.

"I could do with a cup of tea." He said. Feliciano brightened up considerably.

"I'll go make you one then-" He meant to dart of but Ludwig grabbed his arm deftly before he could dark off. The bodyguard kept his eyes fixed on the men in the car with his steely gaze.

"I do not think that's a good idea, Mr Vargas." He grunted darkly. He did not like how the policemen perked up at the use of his charges name and he strived to make himself taller and more intimidating, his hand twitching automatically to the gun concealed in his own jacket. "We should leave. Now. These men are obviously busy and we shouldn't disturb them any longer."

"That's right, they are busy watching my house." Feliciano pouted and attempted to throw off his arm unsuccessfully. The boy's eyes were like daggers in his round face and Ludwig did not like it. "Maybe if we give them food they'll tell us why they're here."

The man with the large eyebrows, he was probably the one in charge judging by the way that the other watched him wearily as if expecting orders, seemed suddenly to draw in himself in guilt as if the innocence of the boy in front of his was breaking down his defences.

"Please just tell me, if you don't I'll have to tell my Grandpa." Feliciano seemed to notice his expression and his voice rose in a beg. Pent up emotion rose into his eyes revealing the scared little boy beneath. "If you go away now we can pretend it never happened. Please Mr Policeman-"

To everyone's surprise, even the Captain's, the man suddenly cut across the young boy with a gruff laugh.

"Good," he said happily. There was a dangerous light in the man's eyes that made Ludwig instinctively tighten his hold on Feliciano's arm. "I want him to know I'm watching him-"

"Sir, I don't-"

"Quiet Zwingli." He snapped in response, turning to the other man with a hard glare. "I want that man to be able to see my face before it's covered by the bars of his prison cell. So let him know lad, let him know. I'll happily take whatever your old man can throw at me."

Feliciano's face went pale, his usually pink cheeks losing their colour.

"Boys, what are you doing?" Roderich's voice asked coming from behind them. He was no longer holding the bags having deposited the bags at the front door and was able to place both hands on his hips. He had wandered over to see what they were doing with the men in the car, his dark blue eyes cutting behind his glasses as they flicked between them.

"Nothing Roderich, we were just leaving." Ludwig replied lightly, pushing on Feliciano's form. He was surprised when Feliciano moved under his touch even though he looked slightly dazed and continued to stare at the car over his shoulder all the way up to the front door.

On the steps, with the doors open behind him like wings, Viktor had appeared like an avenging angel. It was uncommon for the elder Vargas male to be without his bodyguard and the blond rarely stood alone. Ludwig was struck but the sight because he had never realised how imposing his Grandfather was when in the shade of the other man, but alone his blue eyes were like the strongest flame as they glared down at the scene with intensity, his eyes locked onto Roderich's back who was talking to the men in the car. His eyes didn't stray from the man even when they mounted the stairs to pass past him.

Roderich's conversation with the men in the car was brief and snappy. Ludwig did not quite catch the words exchanged but the tone the butler used was more sharp and direct than usual. After only a few words he followed them, stomping back into the house and pushing past Viktor at the door. Ludwig was eager to get Feliciano out of the way and hurried him inside but his Grandfather lingered on the doorstep for a long moment, staring at the car darkly before closing the door with slightly more force than necessary.

Roderich struggled with the bags beside them as the blond man turned to them with a severe expression. "Master Vargas?"

Feliciano seemed to shake his head out of his thoughts and returned to the room and the situation at hand, his familiar smile returning to his face and his cheeks brightening. For the moment the police were forgotten.

"Yes, what is it Viktor?" He asked.

"Your Grandfather has instructed me to inform you that he will be too busy to see you today, he is currently on the phone with some business partners and is not to be disturbed." Viktor's eyes followed Roderich's movements as he walked backwards and forwards to the kitchen with the bags. "He asks that you and your brother have the day off to relax and be together."

"I'll go and tell Lovi!" Feliciano cheered, practically scampering up the stairs to his brothers room. Ludwig groaned weakly, he hoped the older male was awake because he certainly wasn't the type of guy to enjoy being woken up. He had to follow and make sure his charge wasn't killed in his own home by his own brother. Still Ludwig lingered briefly, watching as Elizabeta emerged from the kitchen to greet her husband but was pushed away gently. A look of hurt crossed her features as she watched after him, only to follow him a second later and shut the kitchen door behind her. All the while his Grandfather watched the exchange with an impassive expression, his lips drawn into a thin line. Before he could get scolded for leaving his charge alone Ludwig turned his back on the scene and hurried up the stairs, following the patter of Feliciano's shoes on the marble.

oOo

Lovino woke up groggily, tucked into the warmth of his bed with a pillow over his face so that the light was a dark gold. He dozed languidly in the feeling of the hum of the morning, before the spark of feeling within from the day before grew. It was as if the memories were slowly leaking back, bringing the inevitable dread with them. The weight of the day before pressed heavily on him and he was once again anxious.

Trying to ignore his worries he wondered why he had woken, then he realised that there was a movement in his room; somebody was messing around in his draws. He shot up suddenly in a panic sending the pillows and covers flying. The brightness of the room blinded him momentarily but when it had cleared he found Antonio's back facing him as he shuffled through the cupboard across from his bed.

"Hey! Bastard!" He found himself subconsciously drawing his covers up and his cheeks reddening. That idiot, what was he doing? Was he looking for money or something? He tried not to focus on how long he had been in the room while he had been sleeping. "What do you think you're doing?"

The bodyguard turned to look at him, a beam forming on his features when he saw he was awake.

"Ah Lovi, I was just getting your clothes out for the day." He held up his arm where a folded shirt and bottoms hung. "I was trying not to wake you up, I'm sorry. Shall I leave your clothes here?"

Lovino stared at him for a good long moment, his head blank of all thought. "Erm... sure."

He did as he promised; taking the shirt and bottoms neatly and laying them at the foot of the bed ready to put on. His movements were deliberate and gentle as if he'd been practising the art of preparing clothes in his room. Lovino felt his heart soften at the action, he doubted that helping him pick clothes and acting as his own person butler was part of the job description but Antonio was helping him anyway.

"You don't have to do that." He said quickly getting his legs out of bed so that they dangled over the side. Antonio chuckled to himself.

"It's my job to look after you. In every way, not just stand there and look intimidating." He rounded the bed and stood at his side. Lovino backed away slightly as he leaned in dangerously but he was only inspecting the cuts and bruises that still adorned his face. He tutted, his breath fluttering on his cheeks lightly before he turned away.

"They really made a mess of you, Lovi," He muttered. Antonio fetched the bag of ointments and bandages that had been left on his table, bringing them back to Lovino's scowling face. It was far too early in the morning to be arguing but the nickname once again touched a nerve.

"I've told you a hundred times, don't call me Lovi." He snarled his frustration building when Antonio just grinned in response. He was obviously not listening as he began chatting away to himself as he applied the creams to his face.

"You are looking better though Lovi." Another twitch. "I just wish you were feeling better. What with yesterday you've got us all worried. I hope it doesn't happen again. I think if you'd have lived in Italy all your life maybe you would be prepared for warm weather; it's not warm enough here compared to the Mediterranean. That's why these powerful summers can knock the energy right out of you."

Lovino hummed a response under his breath. Unable to do anything but watch his bodyguard he allowed himself to look into the man's eyes. It was like the first time they had met all those days ago, it seemed like weeks had gone past since that first meeting in the ice cream shop. From then he had lost his job and revealed his Grandfather to the one man out to put him in prison. But Antonio was still the same idiot he had met that day, or at least he looked like it all but a sad light in his eyes as he inspected Lovino's features under his fingers.

He noted the silence and how he had been sat staring at him for a long time. Heat rose into his face.

"What's wrong with you?" He demanded. "You'd think someone had died damn it."

Antonio blinked as if he realised what he'd been doing and backed off a little, occupying himself with putting away the medicine. For a long time he didn't speak but when he did his tone was conversational, if somewhat forced.

"So, Lovino." He began. "Tell me about your family. Your Grandfather, does he always act like he does?"

The question caught him off guard. What was he on about? What had brought this on, these questions about his family? He found himself clutching the covers tightly between is hands.

"Like what?" He snapped, not quite grasping the other man's meaning. "He's always like that. What's with the weird questions?"

"Ignore me, I'm just being silly." Antonio sighed. His shoulders slumped dejectedly for a second before perking back up as he turned around quickly, a smile plastered to his face. "So what are we doing today?"

Lovino did not know the answer to that one. This was the first time he did not have to do something during the day, and he was not sure how to spend his time. With a sinking feeling he realised that his Grandpa would probably have some work planned for him seeing as he was anxious to get him to start.

Suddenly the doors crashed open and a small figure barrelled through, straight towards Lovino, hopping onto the bed and smashing into him. He screeched as he found himself pinned uncomfortably between the head board and the bed. The figure giggled in his ear and wrapped it's arms around him in a hug.

"Good morning Lovi!" His brother sang in his ear with another chuckle. Lovino squirmed to rid himself of the younger boy. "How are you? Are you okay today?"

"I'd be much better if you got off me you idiot!" He yelled. He looked to Antonio pleadingly as he struggled, unable to latch the boy off his body. "Oi, bastard! Help me get him off!"

But his bodyguard just laughed at the sight of the two brother's sprawled across the bed, one red faced and angry, the other happily cuddling into the other boy. The Spaniard chuckled into his hands and tears pricked the corner of his eyes and Lovino increased his fidgeting, realising his so called protector wasn't going to help him. His air was getting very minimal as his face grounded into the space in between the headboard. He shouted out in frustration, his anger growing at the sound of Antonio and Feliciano's laughter. It was too early in the morning to deal with these idiots.

There was the sound of running feet and the next minute the weight of his brother was off him and he was able to jump up, scowling at the room in general. Ludwig stood panting and red faced with the younger boy in his arms. He bowed his head.

"I'm sorry Mr Vargas, I couldn't catch him in time." He apologised breathlessly. Instead of quelling his anger his words only seemed to make Lovino more annoyed; stupid potato eater.

"He could have killed me!" He snapped. He was being over dramatic but the lack of consideration his own bodyguard seemed to give was aggravating his already frazzled nerves. "And put him down!"

Ludwig seemed to realise he was still holding Feliciano bridal style and carefully planted him on the bed. The younger boy barely registered the movement and was totally oblivious to the embarrassment on the blond's face. The smile on his brother's face was wide and overly cheerful, his amber eyes huge above his chubby cheeks. Lovino rolled his eyes, honestly if he didn't know better he would assume he was about twelve with the way he acted.

"Lovi, I have some good news." He grinned grabbing his hand as he spoke and bouncing up and down on the bed on his knees. "Grandpa is busy today and he says we should hang out. It'll be so fun, like old times!"

"The day off?" He was surprised, he had been expecting work after all. His Grandfather had seemed eager to get him into the business so why the delay? Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw Antonio relax but when he turned to look at him he was impassive. Feliciano nodded rapidly.

"Yeah, yeah! It's probably because of what happened yesterday." For a moment his eyes were sad but then his smile returned and he laughed, holding onto his hand a little tighter and with warmth. "So what shall we do Lovi? It's been a while since we hung out together; we could go to see a talking picture film? Or we could cook or draw? But it's nice out- let's play in the garden!"

It seemed his decision was made for him, Feliciano's eye lit up at the mention of the garden and secretly he was pleased. It meant that he wouldn't have to sit in a stuffy cinema or be trapped doing a past time his Grandfather didn't approve of. The garden was a safe territory because it was only a flight of stairs away and he would be able to relax, just being outside made his brother giddy and would probably get distracted easily by the clouds or something.

"Fine, get out and let me get changed then." He grumbled. Feli gave a small cheer and scampered out of the room, Ludwig following at his heels like an obedient dog. The elder Vargas sighed and stepped out of bed, scowling in Antonio's direction when he realised that he had not moved when instructed. Luckily Lovino had a changing screen in the corner of his room, he did not use it often but he found himself heading behind it; almost jumping in surprise when his clothes were handed over the top by a steady hand. He snatched them down.

"I thought it was your job to help me?" He grumbled as he slid off his pyjamas, hanging them over the top of the screen to be removed, which they were. "You didn't do such a great job back then."

Antonio tittered in laughter. "Feli would not have hurt you Lovi, he's your brother. Besides it was adorable."

"Weirdo." He muttered to himself. He dressed quickly into the clothes that he had prepared for him, a thin purple shirt with tan trousers and braces. He had once thought it would be useful to place a mirror to the back of one of the boards to check his hair which he did, giving up on attempting to tame the waves and sticking to merely smoothing down his bed head, made worse by his impromptu trip into the covers with Feli. Satisfied with his job he rounded the screen, still patting down his hair and came face to face with a pair of brogues.

He glared up at Antonio's beaming face and took the shoes from his hands. The last time he had seen these shoes they had been in need of a good polish and now they were gleaming.

"It's rude to go through peoples cupboards you know." He said briskly, sitting on the edge of his bed to put them on. "You really shouldn't do this, I can clean my own shoes. Just because I have money and you work for me doesn't make me an invalid."

He bent to tie the laces, his thin fingers briefly grasping the strings before they were brushed away by much large tan hands. Antonio had crouched to the floor, taken his foot easily and was doing his laces. Lovino felt his face heat up, half in anger and half in embarrassment. He was a grown man! What was this moron think he was doing?

He opened his mouth to speak but Antonio got there first.

"I know you can do this stuff yourself but I enjoy helping you." His smile was soft and his lips like velvety pink rose petals opening up to the dawn. He cocked his head to the side slightly as if challenging him to object. "Please let me?"

Why would anyone want to help him so much? Him of all people? It made no sense; the man in front of him might have been an oblivious idiot but he was harder than he thought to read. Lovino had no idea what was going on in the guys head. He was acting very strange, stranger than usual at least. His words especially were simple and easy to grasp but he couldn't help but feel there was another layer of meaning to them, but that was impossible wasn't it?

He did not answer his question, too stunned to think and when he next looked down his laces were done.

"Come on, let's go outside." Antonio said with a fond smile, standing up easily and heading towards the door. For a long moment Lovino found himself unable to follow, still shocked at what had just happened, but the joyful shouts of his brother and the tingle of the summer breeze on his cheeks made him get to his feet; heading in the direction of the door.

oOo

Feliciano had always had a way of making people do what he wanted them to do, it was the high pitch of his voice and the innocent curve of his lips that made people do as he asked them to do. It was a way he had with people. It was the reason now that Antonio and Ludwig found themselves playing piggy in the middle with the young man, who it seemed had no problem being the 'piggy' and was too happy to be running about to notice he was losing. Lovino watched from the covered table, too immune to his brother's pleading after all these years to join in the game. He was content to settle back into his seat and survey at the garden.

For a town apartment their garden was quite large in size. It was long and rectangular, at one end was the kitchen door, at the other the garage that housed their car. When they had first moved in they had not planted many plants and it had remained that way, only a few sparse flora hung around in the beds in front of the kitchen window. The rest of the garden was taken up by grass and a small vegetable patch that Feliciano had begged their Grandpa for when they were little. The city they lived in was usually pretty cold and it was hard to grow anything out of season but this year Feliciano had managed to produce some wonderful veg including some perfect scarlet tomatoes that practically glowed in the afternoon sun.

The day was comfortingly warm and Lovino found himself dozing at the sight of the game and beyond that Heracles, who doubled as both the driver and the family gardener, sorting out the ivy and weeds that had grown on the side of the garage, watched oddly enough by two cats. One sat by his foot looking up expectantly and the other lounged on the roof of the building, flicking its tail playfully and trying to snatch at him every time he reached up for the higher vines. He barely seemed to register their presence and carried on as though they weren't in the way, only when he bent to put the discarded plants into the awaiting bag did he acknowledge the one on the floor by patting in on the head.

He was distracted as a tray was placed on the table next to him, the ice in the tall glasses clinking with a welcome and delicious tinkle. He glanced up at Elizabeta who was holding the tray but the maid's eyes were on the game before them. Feliciano was laughing loudly as he jumped to get the ball but he was too short and it kept flying over his head. Ludwig was smiling which was rare and Antonio seemed to be having fun.

"Sit down," Lovino ordered. He didn't want to make a fuss but he was aware that she was in the family way and that she shouldn't be stood up, she should be taking it easy. Elizabeta blinked at his unexpected kindness and then settled herself down on the chair beside him; with a gracefully movement she poured Lovino and herself a drink using the decanter.

After passing him his drink which he left on the table, she settled back in her seat with a tired sigh. He couldn't resist but to glance in her direction and found her to look worn down, pale blue shadows haunted her lower eye lids and her usually immaculate hair was falling in long waves from the bun on the back of her head.

"Are you okay?" Lovino asked carefully, not wanting to upset her. He kept his tone low so that the others wouldn't hear but they were too engrossed in the game to notice anything was wrong anyway. She opened one eye and looked at him blearily.

"I've been better." She sighed, pulling herself up and taking a sip from her drink. "I haven't been sleeping well, there's too much going on in my head."

"You should look after yourself; for the baby."

Elizabeta nodded her head and looked at the floor. Lovino thought for one horrifying moment that she'd started to cry, that he had been too harsh with her but when she next spoke her tone was strong and determined.

"I'm trying to, I really am." She said, clasping her hands together as if she was praying. "I can do my work, no problem. My mum carried me and completed all her work, she even went in to labour while dusting. It's just..." She trailed off sadly. In the silence between them the only sound was the gentle buzz of the bees as they hummed around the flowers in the beds by the window. She sighed.

"I do not want to bring a child up in this house."

Lovino stared at her. It now made sense now why she and Roderich didn't want his Grandfather to know about the child. He was not totally sure of the terms of their contract apart from that it was the same as their parents before them; Elizabeta and Roderich were still fulfilling the debt that their family owed to his family from many years ago, starting with his Great Grandfather who he had never met. It was a difficult life and he could sympathise with the woman before him for not wanting to bring a child into this life. It was not safe, it was not secure. He doubted that his own mother had wanted this for him.

He did not say anything though comforting words sat pregnantly on the tip of his tongue. Elizabeta was a friend and she needed his help he just was sure that as the grandson of the main cause of her problems, his words would not be taken well. Instead he reached out a hand and unhooked hers, placing his own between them. She took it and returned the gesture lightly, a small smile on her lips but the sadness remaining in her eyes.

"You playing, Lovi?" Antonio was suddenly next to him and with an aspirated sigh he let her hand go. He rolled his eyes he looked to his bodyguard in annoyance.

"Can't you see I'm busy?" He asked but Elizabeta had stood up quickly at the sight of the other man. She bustled around collecting her used glass and turned to hurry away like she had been caught doing something wrong. "Wait, Elizabeta!"

She stopped in her tracks and looked morosely over her shoulder. It ached Lovino's heart to see his friend in such a state and he only wished there was something he could do for her. "Feel free to come and talk to me if you need to. Any time of day and I will be there for you, okay?"

Her eyes shone with grateful tears as she bobbed once in a bow and hurried off to the kitchen, wiping her face on her hand as she went. He hoped he hadn't upset her but she seemed more thankful than anything, perhaps she just needed to let it all out to someone. He wondered briefly how Roderich was helping her as he watched her retreating back, Antonio beside him doing the same with a thoughtful expression on his face.

"That was a very nice thing for you to say." He commented as the door closed behind her. He slid into her evacuated seat beside him and searched his face with clear eyes tinged with curiosity. Lovino sniffed hard through his nose.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He snarled angrily crossing his arms in a huff. He avoided the Spaniard's gaze and focused instead on the sight of Ludwig attempting to put a sun hat on Feliciano's head with little success, the younger boy laughing and dodging the motion in twirls as he danced around the garden.

"You're always so aloof with everyone, it's nice to see that it's not your only voice." Antonio was not being cruel merely truthful. "It was like yesterday when you were playing the violin-"

Lovino remembered with a jolt in his stomach the look on the other man's face and he instantly froze up.

"I know you hated it; there's no need to tell me." He said, too quickly. Of all the things that had sat with him the night before and traversed through his dreams, it was the recollection of Antonio's handsome features morphed into shock and horror when watching him play. He knew it should not have affected him so but he found himself a little nettled by the whole incident.

Antonio stared at him open mouthed for a long moment before replying in an affronted tone. "Hated it? Lovino I loved it!"

"What-?"

"It was beautiful!" He gushed. He waved his hands happily as he spoke with a beaming smile on his face. "The way you played was amazing! I've never heard music like that before. It was just so _you_ and you didn't even know it, like you were on a stage and there was a spotlight and you were singing but you didn't think anyone could hear and see but it was a full house and-"

He took a deep breath but Lovino had barely even registered what he had just said, his mind still on his first words: he had _liked_ it?

"It was perfect." He smiled simply. "Just perfect."

"Lovi! 'Toni!" They turned to see Feliciano, now capped, and Ludwig waiting in the middle of the grass expectantly with a ball in hand. "Are you playing or not?"

"We'll be right there." Antonio replied, giggling when he turned back to Lovino to find his face had once again brightened. "Wow, your cheeks are red like a tomato again! So sweet."

He laughed as Lovino composed himself.

"Shut it bastard." He grumbled trying to keep his voice even. He stood up to keep his increasingly red face out of his line on sight. He could barely control the swell of his heart at the words; people said they liked his music all the time but for some reason the knowledge that Antonio liked it was more pleasant to the ear than anything else. "I'm not sweet."

"No." He agreed with a serene smile, brightened by the summer light. "You are Lovino, which is much better."

"You need your head examined." He snapped before he could stop himself. He thought Antonio would be offended, maybe even mad but he wasn't. He just laughed and winked, his green eyes the same shade as the thick grass at his feet.

"Perhaps I do." He grinned making his blush deepen once more. Damn, he had to get a grip! He wasn't used to complements and the feel of them against his ear was impossibly soft and heartfelt that it was overwhelming.

"Come on." Lovino mumbled, blushing deeply and turning towards his brother. "Feli is waiting."

He didn't need to turn around to know the other man was following, the fact which made him smile a little as he stepped out from the shade and into the sun.

oOo

**Feli is adorable to write for :D **  
><strong>Wow a chapter without Roma! I thought for once I'd give you guys a chapter without his shadow looming in the background being all evil and stuff xD<strong>  
><strong>It was nice to have fun with these guys for once, and to dream of weather that's better than the gloominess that is England at this point in time :')<strong>

**Thanks for reading :D Drop me a review or message anytime :)**  
><strong>Next chapter has Roma in for those who were missing him and some more characters. <strong>

**Quick note: Next chapter will probably end up turning M for violence. Not one to foreshadow guys but believe me it's going to get real dark real soon...**

**ENJOY :D ~**


	15. The Blood Splatter on the Ice

**This chapter is a little later than I originally planned. I found writing for Norway a little difficult and I wasn't quite sure where to take the chapter so it took a little longer than intended to get it up. Suprisingly I did half of it in one day again. It's been beta'd and checked so it should be okay but apolgies for any mistakes.**

**Ah yes, if any of you haven't noticed the rating has just gone up. It just got real folks.**

**Thank you to everyone who commented and added this story for the last chapter. Nearly a hundred now guys :D Love you all so very much :3**

**For this chapter:**  
><strong>Emil- Iceland<strong>  
><strong>Lukas- Norway<strong>  
><strong>Wy (yes some micronations will appear!)- Markita<strong>

**This story actually involves all the characters in my head. If I say 'man' or 'woman' and don't explain them then they're most likely a side character but a hetalia character anyway. In this chapter the 'two men' are Romania and Bulgaria if that helps for imagery. They have no lines in this so aren't described but will appear next chapter and maybe again briefly.**

**Anyway, enough babbling. Quick WARNING of gore here guys. Sorry! Hetalia isn't mine but the plot of this is. Enjoy~**

oOo

"Any sign of movement, Emil?" Lukas Bondevikbroke the silence of the dark room by murmuring to his brother who was sat at the window of the small room.

The young man shook his blond head slightly in response, keeping his hooded blue eyes trained on the road outside and beyond that the warehouse. The double doors of the new building that Emil watched were barred shut, a thin beam of golden light shone from under these doors, occasionally flickering as people wandered near it inside. Outside it was the dead of night and the street lights were the only illumination on the road and also in the room they sat in, the six occupants sat expectantly in the dark, only able to see each other in shadows. There was a tangible tension in the air as the moment resting itself tantalisingly on each of their lips, sweet and delicate, but when they went to take a bite it moved away taunting.

With a crumpling sound of moving material the other occupants of the room shifted restlessly at his question.

"Leave off Norge, Ice will tell you when he sees anything." Mathias chuckled using the nicknames he had devised for the brothers because of their ash blond hair. He had once joked they looked foreign so he had devised the names on the spot and they had stuck. It was always useful to have code names in their line of work. He sat across from him and had his feet up on the table between them, in his hand he clasped a hip flask of some unknown liquid which he took a swig of occasionally with a satisfied sigh.

Lukas narrowed his dark blue eyes and glared at the man before him at the table. He did not particularly like Mathias, he was friendly with him to a point and they sometimes went for drinks together. Hell, it was through Mathias that he and his brother had got this job. It might not have been the safest but it paid well and enabled them to keep their apartment without struggling to pay the rent and angering their land lord. Their relationship was a respectful work one at best.

"I'm fed up of just sitting here." Lukas grumbled. The other people in the room, one woman and two men respectively hummed their agreement through the darkness. Lukas didn't know these other people but he felt banded to them against the common cause of disliking the tall blond who seemed oblivious to their sneering faces.

Out of the corner of his eye, Lukas glanced to Emil who in all the time they had been in the room had not moved from his post at the window, watching out for movement in the warehouse opposite. In the dimness of the room the young man's face reflected into the black glass to echo his severe expression back at him. The two brothers shared the same coloured hair and stern gaze, although Emil had kept the youthful roundness in his cheeks that his brother had lost. They had been together for all their lives and were so close that he was able to distinguish the slight twitch of his younger brother's lips as a smile.

"The Russian's will come out when they're ready, not before." Mathias replied making Lukas turn his head back to face him. He watched as the taller man chugged down the last remaining drops of alcohol from his bottle with a relish and a grin in his direction which he ignored. "Lighten up. All we have to do is wait and then it'll be smooth sailing from there. Like taking candy from a baby."

Lukas had to resist the urge to punch the man in the face, only stopping himself when he noted it was too dark to be lunging around the room throwing fists.

"Let's go over the plans again." He suggested. The one of the men in the corner nodded eagerly, his head a moving blob in the gloom.

"The Russian's come out." The woman recited in a bored tone. She was sat away from the others with her arms folded across her chest and her knees crossed under a very short dress. She held herself with the confidence and strength of a man and in all honesty Lukas found it unsettling. She had not spoken much, apart from to tell them her name was Markita and it was left at that; her dark eyes were like daggers daring anyone to come close. Lukas did not like her very much.

Markita continued on, twirling a curl of hair from the knot at the side of her head around her finger. "I distract them while you guys get in the van, Mathias turns up and you drive it away; picking us up before on the way around the corner. Simple, yeah?"

"Should be." Emil spoke up from the window. Lukas stared at his brother; he had not made a sound for the whole three hours they'd been stuck in the room but the moment she asked a question he decides to answer? Talk about thinking with your pants. He shook his head as Markita sniffed hard through her nose in a snort of knowing laughter. According to what he had understood from Mathias she was a dangerous creature, background-wise she was some sort of whore than had found herself with the wrong kind of pimp. Mr Vargas had sorted her out and now she seemed externally grateful. Mathias had said there was nothing she would not do for the man to repay her debt. It worried Lukas greatly. She was not be quite stable in the head, and seemed to want to either attack or abuse any man that came into contact with her. Trust his brother to want something like that.

The urge to protect him came in strong again, probably for the hundredth time that day. But like he had the last time and the time before he pushed the feeling down until it resided, ignored, at the pit of his stomach like an anxious bubble. His brother was no longer a teenager, and he definitely hadn't been a kid in a long time. For the first few years of their lives they had been brought up by a drunken uncle in one of the poorest areas of the city, watching from their window as the rich people had walked past and hungering; for security, love and most importantly money. After their uncle had died from a drug overdose, about five years after the end of the war, Lukas had been left in charge of the family and practically had to bring up Emil. Money was hard to come by and they had ended up on the streets. Back then every day was dark.

These days things were brightening up. They had a steady supply of cash from their job from Mr Vargas. Lukas had long ago managed to convince himself that he did not care where the money came from, only that it lined their bellies with food. He tried not to think of it as blood money or what it was from. He knew all too well the line of business that the Vargas family partook in. And so did his brother.

"We have movement." Emil muttered. In the small, dark room his voice carried and Lukas felt the tension snap like a rubber band around them. In one swift flurry they had stood up and joined him eagerly at the window to look outside. The warehouse door which had been barred to the floor was slowly lifting to allow the trucks to exit, they would have minutes to do this right.

"Come on," Mathias ordered as he stowed away his drink into an inner pocket of his dark jacket. "We need to move."

Lukas' body seemed to move of it's own accord. Robotically he followed the taller man as he hurried to the door and out into the night. His brother, passing him, touched his shoulder briefly in a comforting fashion as he too hurried off. The two other men jogged behind as he stepped out into the clear night, the stars were out for once, speckled and distant in the light of the grimy city. The grind of the door lifting from the ground broke through the stillness of the night as the five men rushed to the alley beside the warehouse so that were hidden out of sight. The only noise they could hear was the mumbled rise and fall of voices and the thrum of a motor of a vehicle. Markita had assumed her agreed position at the lamppost close to the buildings entrance. Lukas' heart beat in his throat as he listened eagerly to the sounds outside on the street, barely audible over the sounds of his own ragged breaths.

"Evenin' boys!" Markita's voice slurred. She was a very good little actress, so good that he could almost imagine the little slump of her small frame as she leaned against the light, for all eyes purposes to keep her balance. "Nice night for it!"

"Go home lady." One of the men answered. Lukas tensed up, wondering just how many men there were. He glanced at Emil but his brother's focus was fixed on the empty stretch of road they could see from their vantage point in the alley way with the intensity of a lion watching it's prey.

"Aw, don' be like that." There was the sharp clatter of heels as she pushed herself from the lamp and towards them. One of the men laughed a little over the voices of the other people inside that were shouting orders to one another.

"Don't be rude Gilbert." He scolded playfully. He had a faint accent which Lukas couldn't quite place because of the other noises. "She iz obviously very drunk."

"'Am not drunk!" Markita squealed but the first man spoke up roughly.

"I don't care, I don't want her hanging around like this." He sniffed in and spat onto the floor in distaste. "For one it's not safe for her, young women shouldn't be on the streets pissed at this time of night; it's filthy. And I should remind you this is meant to be a secret operation."

"_Oui_, I know." The man sighed. There was the sound of movement as the man moved towards her. "Come on miss, you 'ave to leave now-"

A loud thump interrupted his words.

"Ahh damn it Francis, now look at her!" The Gilbert man grumbled. He too moved in Markita's direction. Lukas resisted the urge to roll his eyes, she had pulled the easiest trick in the book by pretending to pass out and these men were falling for it; she was either really convincing or they were just idiots. Either way Mathias might have been right when he said this job would be easy.

"We need to get her up off the floor and move her from the van, she's blocking the way." Another man spoke up sounding tense. "Just shove her on the side walk and we'll be away-"

"What are you, heartless?" Gilbert snapped. They could not see his face but Lukas could almost sense his fury as he shouted at the other man. "She's a young woman, not a sack of meat. Anyone could take her at the roadside."

"Then she shouldn't have got herself drunk."

There was a loud growl and a sharp whistling sound, he could only guess what had happened but by the paper like scrunch and rattle of the crates he the man who had suggested leaving Markita had ended up being slammed into the side of the van. For long moment there was a scuffling sound and the tinkle of glasses in the back of the vehicle, in the pause Mathias turned to look at him and winked, smiling like an idiot. Lukas ignored him.

"Stop it!" The man Gilbert had called Francis yelled.

Gilbert said something low and threatening, too low for them to catch, and the other man spluttered as there was a final bang and marching footsteps. The man with the accents sigh was audible in the deathly silence that followed.

"'Onestly, I expected better from you Gilbert." He said but he only received a grunt in response. The man sighed again. "Come on, we'll 'ave to get 'er up off the floor. We'll leave her in the warehouse for the workers to watch over until she wakes up. Toris! Get out 'ere and 'elp."

The van door slammed as someone got out of it. There was a muffled drunken giggle from Markita as the men tried to pull her off the floor, their shoes scuffling on the pavement in haste as they dragged her dead weight. Lukas' body felt alive with adrenalin as his heart pounded in his ears. This was it, they only had to wait for the signal and-

Markita suddenly spoke up, louder than she had before so that there was no way they could miss it."You boys are so nice, you should come for a drink with me."

The signal for the all clear. Without even thinking about what he was doing or what the others were doing Lukas swept out of the hiding place, following behind Mathias taller form. The van hummed idly on the pavement, it's rear end still half hidden in the factory doors and the front cabin perfectly empty. The golden light of the inner warehouse threw the shadows of the other men on the opposite side of the cabin into relief on the floor, twice the size they should have been and meshed together as they attempted to drag the unrelenting form of Markita inside the building but she dug in her heels; conveniently making as much noise as possible which hid the click of the door on their side as Mathias turned the handle. They were lucky it was unlocked.

Out of the corner of his eye he briefly registered the two heavies creeping through the door on the side of the van that was used to store the cargo. In looking he caught sight of his brothers face looking flushed and energetic but with a hint of nervousness as he nodded to him, it was a comforting nod. It said that everything was going to be all right, everything was going according to plan. Lukas returned the gesture and pushed past Mathias to go in first.

Now he had to be careful. He crouched down in the suffocating space below the chairs and slid in, careful to make his movements as small as possible as he edged around the gear stick. Despite the van's size and his slight weight he knew from experience that these vehicles had a tendency to rock slightly if any of the movements were too sudden. It was not the first time he had commandeered a ride, but it was the first time he had done so when there were men outside with guns and very willing to shoot someone trying to steal it and it's cargo. Lukas was filled with the terrifying image of them opening the door and finding him crouched there like a rat under the steering wheel. It would be certainly a quick death. He was all too aware of the thinness of the metal and the proximity of the voices as the men grumbled over Markita. He tried to push the thoughts from his mind.

When he was under the wheel and ready to go Emil followed him in. Lukas felt a small swell of pride as his brother's body made no movement in the car at all; he'd trained him well. Mathias shut the door behind them, not totally close as the noise would alert the Russian's beside them but enough so that the door was closed and looked to all curious eyes to be shut. Emil held onto the handle with one hand, gripping it so hard that his knuckles turned white.

Mathias disappeared from their line of vision and the only sounds in the darkness of the cab were their heavy breaths. A pregnant pause followed.

"Hey, what are youse men doin' with ma wife?" Mathias voice suddenly rang out from right beside Lukas' door. He had put on his best accent for the occasion, mixing in some British immigrant with his fake drunk. In all honesty it was terrible and made him sound like a hoodlum but it did the job, the sound of the men dragging Markita stopped as they turned to face the newcomer.

"This is your wife?" Gilbert's voice said. There was a dangerous edge of annoyance to it that Lukas noted. "What the hell did you leave her alone for man? This isn't a nice neighbourhood, we were trying to get her inside so she'd be safe."

"We warr in the club yeah, and I lost 'er dinnit I?" Mathias returned his annoyance with booze filled anger. "Ya got a problem, pal?"

Gilbert growled in response and probably would have charged for him if a sharp whistle hadn't cut through the silence. Emil and Lukas shared a glance for they had both heard the whistle before when Gilbert had attacked the other man, it could not be coincidence and the brothers faintly wondered what it could be. In any case it stopped Gilbert from attacking.

"You're lucky your lady friend is here buddy." He grunted. There was a shifting sound and another tipsy giggle as Markita was brought closer to the drivers door and Mathias. "Otherwise I would have your throat out for speaking to me like that."

There was a creak as Mathias lurched forward to the man who had brought over his 'wife', the movement made the van shift and allowed Lukas to shift himself up onto the seats, keeping flat to the board behind him so that he was out of the sight of anyone who chanced to look in the drivers seat. The hairs on the back of his hands and neck stood on end as Emil's eyes fixed on him in the darkness, catching the light coming in from the street lights and the warehouse and burning blue.

"A don' like your friends tone buddy." Mathias slurred at the man he had grabbed who hissed in disgust.

"Man, what did you drink; gasoline?" The man with the accent gasped. With the sound of brisk footsteps he hurried away from the drunken pair and back to the others on the far side of the vehicle, Mathias laughed loudly. Obviously his pre-drink had a purpose after all.

"Come on darlin'" He said as he began to stumble away. Lukas reached out a shaking hand and locked the driver's door as the scraping of his boots and the clack of her heels hurried down the pavement in the opposite direction. Feeling totally focused Lukas ran through his mental list of things to do. He put the vehicle into gear and unlocked the handbrake.

The men on the pavement, who were watching as the couple rounded the corner, weren't even aware that the car was moving until one of the workers inside the building gave a shout of warning and they turned their heads in time to see the van roar past them. Lukas saw their looks of shock as he sped past morph a second later into anger. As Emil pulled himself up onto the seat beside him Lukas glanced into his side mirror and saw them chasing after them, pulling out guns as they did so from the folds of their jackets. Five men in total, five guns.

He flung the wheel and turned the corner, for one moment the truck tilted dangerously and the bottles in the back clattered in applause as it righted itself, the wheels hit the floor with a smash. In front of them Mathias and Markita waited, rushing forward to meet them. Emil flung open the side door to allow them to get in the front cabin, leaning out and holding it open.

"Hurry up!" He yelled as there was a shout behind them. The men were gaining. Lukas bounced in his seat as it seemed to take an age for the man and woman to get closer to the truck, couldn't they hear the pounding footsteps drawing closer? They had to round the vehicle to get into the right door.

"Get a move on!" He screamed. Markita jumped in like a cat, pushing herself right into Lukas arm so that there would be more room for Mathias who also hopped in, only less agilely. They were in; they'd done it. Lukas' foot ghosted over the gas peddle as Emil went to close the door-

There was a sudden gunshot. Markita screamed as the bullet embedded itself in the dashboard with a acidic hiss leaving a small trail of smoke. There was a shout from Mathias and the door slammed shut. Without even looking up Lukas floored it, the truck speeding off so fast that they were thrown back into their seats.

They got away from the men, just. They ran after the truck for a little way but they were unable to keep up with the vehicle and fell behind. He could see them in the wing mirror yelling and gesturing wildly at each other, all but one man who seemed to be laughing-

Then the smell hit him. The coppery tang in the air mixed in with the strong smell of bodily fluids that choked the air around him. Noise caught up to him suddenly as he was draw from his adrenalin infused blankness to the real world. Mathias was yelling something, Markita was crying; actually crying. And then there was the horrid gurgling sound like someone was choking; and the smell, god the smell.

He had to keep driving, it was like he was running on automatic; his hands white as they clutched the large steering wheel. He didn't want to look but he knew he had to check. He tore his eyes from the road and instantly wished he hadn't. It was like walking into a nightmare.

Emil had been shot. The bullet lodged in the dashboard had gone straight through his brother from a wound in his abdomen. Blood and foul body fluids poured from the wound and covered Mathias hands as he awkwardly tried to quell the bleeding but it was like Emil's liquids were just leaking out of him; it did not seem to stop. Endless streams poured from the exit wound below him, pooling on the floor with a steady drip that seemed the loudest noise above everything. Somehow Lukas stopped the sick that rose in his throat at the sight.

He turned his head back to the road, ignoring his brothers choked breath and Mathias' curses but unable to block out the constant slash of blood as it dropped to the floor, sliding with purpose to kiss against the inside of his foot as he veered round a corner.

"Mathias, is he-?" He croaked pitifully unable to get the words out, his throat didn't seem to want to work.

"Just shut up and drive Lukas." Mathias responded gruffly. His tone, usually so calm and cheerful was replaced by something much harder, like stone. "Shit, just drive. Come on Ice, stay with me."

With no other option he did as he was told. Markita whimpered weakly with her feet lifted off the floor as the blood ran across the bottom of the cab. So much blood, where had it all come from? Surely his brother could not lose that much blood. Lukas gasped as tears began to fall down his face, half in panic and half in fear.

_Oh God,_ he prayed, _don't let him die, please. He's all I have left, you can't take him from me, I-_

Emil gave a strangled gasp. Lukas made the mistake of looking over again. His brother's face which flashed briefly in the light of the street lamp they passed under was extraordinarily pale, almost ghost like and paper thin. All the veins stood out around his eyes like cracked marble and his lips were blue as he wheezed for air. He looked less like a man and more like a young boy as he gazed pleadingly to Lukas' face, catching his eyes for one last brief second before his own eyes rolled in on themselves. Emil began to thrash violently, throwing off Mathias lax hold as he convulsed viscously. Blood bubbled up at the corner of his mouth and popped sickeningly as he struggled to take a breath.

"Emil!" The wail left Lukas' mouth before he could stop himself. Every sense in his body screamed at him to turn the truck around and find a hospital but his body wouldn't response, mechanically he manoeuvred the van on the route to Mathias house as if this was the only opinion he had. The job had to be completed. But there was his brother, his little brother, dying in the chair opposite him. His breath halting in his chest and his precious ruby blood leaking like a burst sacking from a doll onto the floor.

"Just shut up and drive!" Mathias yelled, throwing his arms around Emil in an attempt to halt his flailing limps, his blood soaked hands dripping as they clutched the smaller man to his chest. Markita sobbed louder as she tried to scoot away in fear, edging closer to Lukas who barely registered her presence; his tear filled eyes fixed on the road and the image of his brother's white features staring back at him and pleading with him to help him. He drove.

They drew into the allotment behind Mathia's dingy apartment and the van motor died, Lukas was struck but the sudden lack of sound. Before there was something, some form of life from the other side of the cab, now there was nothing but a gaping absence, a horrible deathly silence hanging like a knife over his head. He was almost too scared to ask the question he already knew the answer to but even when Mathias recited it he was not ready for those two words.

"He's dead." The tall bland choked out in a stifled sob, his bloodied hands still clutching the body to his chest. Emil's lips were open a little in a slack position and his eyelid were peeled a little way back so that the ice blue of his eyes peered out. Lukas felt his throat seize up and the air in the van, full of the scent of blood and death, was all too much. He threw open the door and lurched out, promptly throwing up onto the bushes by the gate in the small lot that lead to the back door of Mathias' ground floor apartment. He'd been there many times before with Emil when they had first started working for the Mafia.

This was his fault.

He wept as the others got out of the truck. Markita tottering on her heels and throwing herself at the two heavies who emerged from the back of the truck, looking bewildered at the sight of Mathias trudging past, covered in blood. Lukas ignored the hand on his shoulder that glistened with his own brother's blood. His little brother who he had brought into a life a crime because there was no other way.

He was dead because of him, because of his stupid choices. He should have never joined them, instead he should have found a job in a shop. A florists. A café, anywhere decent. They would have had to make do with the tiny amount of cash. But he'd been greedy and now he was missing a vital part of himself, the gaping hole in his stomach ached like it had been he who had been shot.

The moonlight shone down, glinting off the fluids on Mathias' hands. He should never have agreed to the man's propositions. He should have said no.

He should have told Emil to drive.

It should have been _him_.

"He was my baby brother." Lukas managed to form these crucial words through his sobs before the crushing reality of his loss overwhelmed him and he crouched to the floor in a heap, watched on by the others who left him to his grief in the cold light of the moon, the body of the boy slumped in the cabin; still dripping.

oOo

**If anyone would like to look at a picture of a 1920/30s van to help with the picture in their head I'll post up a link on my profile :)**

**Soooo, the first death :P Sorry if it was too gory/ not enough. I tried to make it as realistic as possible, I honestly do research this stuff before I write it. Tell me what you think and drop a review! I love them very much and it helps me advance my writing.**

**Thanks my loves! See you next update!**


	16. An Uninvited Guest

**The first part of this chapter was originally joined to the last one but I preferred how chapter 15 ended alone so it was moved here. **

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter :D And all the new watchers welcome :D Sam King and a few other noted that Francis had appeared last chapter. Fear not readers I'm not going mad. He WAS there working with Gilbert, another arch that will be explained throughout the progress of the story so bare with me!**

**Disclaimer- Hetalia characters don't belong to me.**

oOo

Mathias' hand quivered feebly as he reached forward to hold the phone in between his stained fingers, the metal cold and unrelenting beneath his hands which felt almost too weak to pick it up. He tried, and failed, to ignore the sound of the pitiful wails in the next room that cut through the silence of the apartment like a knife; he allowed his fingers to dial out the number. He watched as the dial rotated painfully slowly as it clicked into place. He focused instead on the clear and cheerful sound of the light chimes that it made as it turned.

One deep and shuddering breath, a quick swipe of his hand through his hair that was sticky with sweat. Calm, _calm_. He needed to keep himself composed, he could not report back to Mr Vargas with a shaking voice; the man would most likely think the operation had gone wrong and react badly without hearing him out.

Yet again things had gone very wrong.

He turned his head slightly to look around his grubby kitchen. The walls were a vile pink colour that clashed horribly with the cream counter-tops that were stained with age and use. It was a small room, he never spent much time in it, preferring to sit in his tiny sitting room opposite. He would probably never use this room again.

Emil's body was laid out on the dining table like he was prepared for an autopsy in a morgue. His pale and lifeless face stared up blindly at the light on the ceiling which swayed slightly as if caught in a constant breeze. The movement threw the boys face into sharp relief and shadows danced in his cold eyes. Mathias' knees shook as the dial sounded beside him. They should have closed his eyes-

The phone by his ear started to ring and he turned his attention away from the body, hunching his back over so that he would not be forced to took at him. But he was all too aware of the coppery smell of the room that no amount of hunching could rid him off.

The other end picked up with a small click. "Hello?"

Despite the lateness, or indeed earliness, of the call the voice on the phone was alert and somewhat eager.

"The shipment is in Sir." He gushed quickly. He wanted to get the good news over with as quickly as possible. He was glad that he'd had the foresight to tell the others to take Lukas into the other room; his wailing would have alerted the boss too early that something had gone wrong. Although by now his cries had muted to a dull whimper.

On the other end of the phone Mr Vargas hummed in response, it was almost a purr of pleasure. In his mind's eye Mathias could see him grin triumphantly and stretch back in his chair. "Good work Mathias, I knew I could count on you. For now just do as we discussed."

He was scared that he would put the phone down before he could broach the subject so he spoke up hurriedly. "The thing is Sir, we have a problem."

"Problem?" The older man said dangerously. He could almost hear the creak of the leather chair beneath his fingers as he gripped onto it. Mathias nodded even though he knew he couldn't see the movement.

"Emil is dead," he explained. "He was shot as we were getting away."

There was a moments silence. Then-

"Who?"

Mathias couldn't help but blink at the phone in shock. Surely he hadn't heard right, the boss knew all his men. Emil and Roma had met on a few occasions hadn't they? He couldn't have forgotten who he was, he couldn't have.

"Oh wait, the pale boy." Roma muttered down the phone. "Such a shame." Another pause. "But the shipment is okay though? No damage?"

"We haven't checked yet sir." A cold feeling in his heart spread to his chest. The tone of the man's voice was not sympathetic or concerned, it was almost conversational as if they were discussing who had lost on the baseball rather than the body that waited behind him, slowly dripping the last remnants of it's blood all over his cracked kitchen tiles. Mathias was not sure what he had expected but he had expected a little more than that.

"Make sure you do." Vargas ordered his tone clear and unhindered by emotions. "It would be a poor form of revenge if the bottles had broken during transit. And of course we wouldn't want poor Emil to have died for nothing, eh?"

_Such a noble death,_ Mathias thought before he could stop himself. Those were dangerous thoughts and he could not risk them again; he pushed them down. He allowed himself a calming breath.

"What shall we do with the body Sir?" He asked evenly. He was all too aware of the questions that would be asked if they took him to be buried, all of them involved the police and a one way ticket to a jail cell. He had learnt long ago to avoid them. It was best to ask the Boss' opinion to make sure they were doing it right and not risking the family. The man on the other end tutted in thought.

"Keep him somewhere for now, then take him to our friend Scipio in the morning." He ordered after a pause. Mathias doubted that the pastor in question would bury the man but if the Boss said to do it he would, even if it involved him having to beg with the other man. Or persuading him. He tightened his hold on the phone. "My condolences to the family Mathias. Look after the shipment and contact me when it's ready to move."

Before he could say anything else Roma had put down the phone, the buzz of the dialler tone rang in Mathias ear with the feeling of emptiness that followed it. For a long time he stood there staring at the receiver before putting it down and turning back to the corpse. Cold eyes and a pale face drew his attention for the briefest second before he looked away, not wanting to catch the gaze of the dead man. He had to side step the small puddle of the blood in order to make his way around the table to the other side of the room to get through the door. He reached for the door handle, catching sight of the blood that had crusted brown beneath his finger nails with a sickening feeling in his stomach before turning it and entering the sitting room.

The heavy, oppressive air of mourning filled the room. It was like he had stepped from one foul smelling room to another, instead here it was not a coppery tang but an odourless haze of misery that was somehow worse, finding its way into the lungs and lying there like a cloud next to his heart.

Mathias eyes instantly found Lukas, curled in a tight ball on his side on the threadbare sofa like a small child. He had stopped crying now and instead sat puppet like staring straight ahead with reddened navy eyes, tears drowned his face and his mouth moved but no sound came out; occasionally a hiccup shook his thin frame and he twitched violently. The others in the room kept their distance from him like they were afraid of catching something. Markita's face was pink and bloated with crying but she too had stopped now to glare regally at him from her perch on the arm of the other side of the settee. The two heavies, whose names Mathias knew were Vladamir and Andrei were silent and stood in the far corner; intruders to the moment. They had only been employed to help them carry the boxes of stolen booze and they had found themselves in the middle of a murder.

Mathias trudged to them slowly, the movement in his legs a little impaired with shock. He resisted the urge to rub his eyes, all he felt like doing was going to bed and finding out that the night had been some horrible dream but he knew it wouldn't help. Someone had to take charge and make sure the job was finished.

"You two." He said to the two men. One blond head and one brunette turned to face him. "I need you to go into the truck and take out the goods. There's some steps to the basement in the back next to the kitchen door, take the stuff down there for me yeah?"

"Sure thing." Andrei nodded, seemingly eager to be out of the room. He shoved Vladamir before him who glanced back briefly before leaving through the kitchen door. The sound of the back door slamming shut shook the whole house.

Mathias turned to face Markita and Lukas wearily. He didn't know where to begin or even what it was he was expected to say. The crumpled form before him spoke of nothing but dejection and grief, the usually upright form of the man had folded in on itself like a deck of cards to show the young boy beneath. In all the time he had known Lukas he had never cried.

Then again he himself had never seen a man die. The thought of the body waiting in the kitchen was enough to set Mathias' nerves alight, the hairs on the back on his neck rising in nervous anticipation. He had to control himself to stop the shake of his knees. He couldn't even begin to grasp how the man before him felt knowing that it was his brother lying in the other room.

He stepped close to the other man and laid a hesitant hand on his shoulder. His flesh was feverish and unyielding as a statue beneath the thinness of his shirt.

"Lukas?" He asked, surprised when his voice cracked a little. The sight of the broken boy before him struck him somewhere deep. He was so used to his impassive expressions and blank gaze that the raw grief on his face was almost too much to look at. "Lukas?"

He did not respond but stared ahead as if he could not see him stood there.

"I don't think he's going to move." Markita sniffed. She rubbed the sleeve of her coat repeatedly across her face making her make-up smudge and blur; her eyes as she looked down at Lukas' crumpled form were sad. "We've tried to get him to sit up and he won't."

"We can't just leave him." Mathias sighed dismissing her easily. She huffed as he turned away to face Lukas once more. "Hey, Lukas, come on. You have to get up."

His face was so close to the other boy that he could faintly hear the distorted mumbles issuing from his mouth. His lips were dry and cracked, his breathing rapid as he strained to keep it even. At some point in his wailing he must have bit his lower lip which had bled a little and bruised purple. Mathias slipped his hand around the other man's back as he knelt down closer.

"Lukas, please get up." He chose to adopt a softer tone. "We have to move Emil, we can't leave him in the kitchen. He needs to be buried."

Navy eyes blinked and attempted to focus on Mathias' face, his features blank. "Bury him where?"

Mathias ignored Markita's sniff of annoyance and spoke clearly and slowly, fearing that the pale porcelain face before him would crack if he put a foot out of line and said something wrong. He didn't need another breakdown on his hands; he felt bad for Lukas, so bad that it pained him to see his friend in such a state, but there was nothing he could do now to change what had happen. Emil was dead and things needed to be taken care of, just like Mr Vargas had said.

"We'll take him to Scipio, you remember him?" He asked. "The Priest from Mr Vargas' church. He'll make sure it's done proper and stuff..."

He trailed of uselessly, his hand patting him on the arm a little out of lack of something to do. Lukas eyes dimmed a little as he mumbled something under his breath, too low for Mathias to catch.

"What?"

"But we're not Catholic." He whispered, his eyes filling up again but not spilling over. Instead the tears clung onto his pale eyelashes like dew on spider webs. Mathias was lost for words and was almost glad when Vladamir and Andrei walked back into the room, saving him the humiliation of opening his mouth.

"It's done Sir, we moved the boxes as you asked." Andrei said. The blond man beside him quickly added, "And we cleaned the truck too, just a little soak of water to remove the worst of the stains. Is there anything else to do?"

He was touched by their thoughtfulness and almost felt bad that his next job would not be so easy or so pleasant. "I need you to put Emil in the back of the van. We need to take him away. Can you do that for me boys?"

Andrei looked faint, his face turning pale at the thought but Vladamir nodded solemnly, his features set calmly onto his face. Together they returned to the kitchen to complete the task set to them without another word. The sounds of them moving Emil were clearly audible through the crack in the door, dull thuds and sliding that made Mathias think of the body and the blood with a sickening jolt. Lukas heard too and shifted a little on the settee so that he was sitting up, his eyes dead.

Mathias watched him, feeling lost at what to do. He glanced in Markita's direction but she turned her gaze in the opposite direction as though she could not bear to look at him. He sighed.

"Let's go."

oOo

Arthur slammed the door behind him with a groan. It was late, or rather it was early, he wasn't too sure; too overwhelmed by the pain in his lower back from sitting in a lumpy car seat all day as he watched the Vargas house for any signs of movement he didn't really care about the time, only the bed waiting for him up stairs. He tried to not feel the crushing disappointed that weighed down on him, reminding himself as he shook off his coat that there were more days, more stakeouts and more opportunities for Vargas to slip up. And when he did Arthur would be waiting with handcuffs and an open cell door; the thought made him grin. Just because he hadn't seen anything today didn't mean he wouldn't see anything at all.

The grin was quickly slipped off his face as he made his way up the stairs. The lights on the top landing were on and shone down brightly at him. It was unusual in itself because Francis often complained when he left the lights on, saying it interrupted his beauty sleep. So either Francis was still awake or...

With a light tread Arthur made his way up the mountainous stairwell, he made no sound. When he reached the top he realised that not only was the light on in the hallway but also in the kitchen, a thin bar of golden light shone beneath the closed door. From behind it's wooden surface Arthur could faintly make out the mumble of voices as more than two people talked, not quite loud enough to catch any distinct words. Alfred's voice was the loudest of the bunch as he spoke up; was it Arthur or did his voice sound shrill? Was Francis allowing them to stay up and listen to the wireless?

But Arthur could not hear Francis' melodious tones amongst the boys, instead a deeper gruff voice interjected into the conversation often, an voice he was certain he had not heard before. A prick of fear touched him to be instantly replaced by a calm as his training took over. He took in the space around him, focusing on the mess that was the lion coat rack and the faint smell of cigarettes in the air. Perhaps not an intruder then, but not necessarily friendly. He wished the boys wouldn't let in strangers, where the hell was Francis to stop them? Stupid frog.

With a scowl Arthur edged nearer the door, his hands fanning over the gun in the holster under his left arm. His left hand grabbed the door handle roughly and pushed open the door.

A wave of smoky air choked him a little and it took a moment for the smoke from his vision to clear and when it did he almost wished that he had pulled out his gun and blazed into the room.

The boys were seated around the table, gazing with sickening affection to the man that sat with them. He had ginger hair that refused to lie flat much like Arthur's and eyebrows to rival his own. From one side of his mouth a shoddily rolled cigarettes hung dripping ashy tobacco onto the clean table. The eyes that met his as he opened the door were green and at the sight of him they filled with a childlike vindictiveness that boiled Arthur's blood.

"What are you doing here, William?" He demanded without so much of a hello. William Kirkland, his eldest brother, grinned sharply in response as he folded arms over the shabby grey suit which was crumpled from travel. Beside him on the floor was a poorly packed suitcase that was close to bursting at the seams, the edges of shirts poking out.

The boys recovered from their initial shock quickly and Alfred grinned widely. Arthur noted how they were all in their pyjamas, even little Peter who had a determined pout on his face even as his body drooped in tiredness as he clutched a pillow to his chest.

"Dad!" Alfred said cheerfully, darting up to meet him like a overeager puppy. "Dad! Look uncle William came all the way to see us. Isn't it great?"

"That is yet to be seen Alfred." Arthur had a very suspicious feeling that his brother was not here for a casual visit, the man before him was anything but casual and the suitcase was not a good sign. Nonchalantly, William puffed out a large billow of smoke like a train, the smirk still adorning his sharp features. No, definitely up to no good.

"Can't a man come and see his baby brother if the mood takes him?" William asked. Arthur noted that he had retained the Scottish twang in his voice from working in the forces up north. He was also a police officer, but they couldn't be less alike if they tried. William was so lax about most things in his life where as Arthur was very precise about everything, the sight of the bag alone was enough to turn his stomach a little. "Especially a baby brother who seems to need his older and wiser brother's guidance."

Arthur stiffened. With barely any movement of his mouth he spoke. "Boys, bed."

Alfred opened his mouth to complain but one look at his father's darkened face made him reconsider. Without a word the three children trampled off to bed, Matthew holding up Peter as the youngest boy rubbed his eyes sleepily. Arthur watched them go, closing the door behind them before rounding on his brother.

"What the fuck are you doing here, William?"

William crossed his legs languidly. "Now that's not very nice is it?"

The blond stalked around the table to confront the older man, a furious gleam in his green eyes. For a long moment he stood there, hovering over his brother and biting his lip before throwing himself into the chair beside him and rubbing his face. Arthur found that he did not want to argue, they always argued and it wore thin on him after all these years. It was tedious and petty.

"If you must know, Francis invited me." William said while Arthur rubbed his face. The blond glared at him through a crack in his eye as he puffed out another mouthful of smoke. The smell made his craving, which had been growing in the car all day, reach it's peak. It must have shown on his face because William smirked and drew a tatty roll up from his shirt pocket. It was falling apart but it was tobacco and it would burn, Arthur accepted it gratefully lighting it up with his own lighter.

He drew a long drag and let out the smoke in a sigh. William watched him curiously.

"Why did Francis invite you all the way over here?" He asked after he was finished revelling in the moment. "More importantly, why did you come? You're not one for visits William, so don't spin your shit on me."

The older man shrugged, an artful roll of his shoulders that made his frayed suit scrape along the back of the chair with a rustle. "He called a few months back, said you needed my help; that you had starting drinking again."

Arthur flinched. He remembered that time; spring was just finishing and summer was in the air but to him it held none of the thrill of life one would usually expect. The world had lost it's spark for a long time and all the leads he had followed had been dead ends, he had tracked the Vargas trail to America but back then he had no idea where to start. The police had been uncooperative and rude. His team were not the same ones he had now and had a tendency to disregard everything he said and do what they liked; often landing him in a lot of trouble.

At the same time it was the first anniversary of Alice's death. Even though they had been apart for a long time he had loved her very much, she had been his best friend even through the spilt, her death had hit him hard but he had pushed it down. When he had arrived in America he had believed that he could forget about her and focus on bringing up Alfred and Peter in a good environment but the day had reminded him of everything that had happened. It had been a dark time. Arthur made his usual mistake and returned to drink.

But then things had gotten better. One night when his head had been a little clearer he had decided that enough was enough; he had managed to persuade the commissioner to give him a different task force to work with and got his head in order. He had not realised Francis had been so concerned.

"You're a little late." He grunted, taking another drag. William nodded his head.

"I can see that." He replied. He cocked his head to one side. "I had at least thought you'd still be a bit down but this is the happiest I've seen you in a long time Arthur, for a few years in fact. What's going on?"

"Never mind that, how's the family?" He asked, quickly changing the subject. He did not want William to know about his new leads yet but his reply had been to brisk, his brother scowled but answered evenly.

"They're good, same as always I guess." He pulled the ashtray towards him and doused the flame as he spoke, grinding the cigarette into the marble surface. "Patricia is getting married to that Irish bloke she met on holiday; Mother does not approve, of course. Owen is well on his way to getting a first in Law, he's turning out to be just as eager as Dad was. Sometimes it's like looking back and seeing him, pretty creepy but kind of nice seeing as the old fella is gone now. Mother is thriving on the wireless and the newspaper; she complains that her little boy has forgotten her."

"I am not a little boy." Arthur grunted feeling a blush rise in his face. "And Mum knows I'm busy over here with work and the kids. I try to send her a letter every month you know but there's only so much you can write, it's not exciting here. In fact I'm sure her chats over the garden wall to the neighbours are more interesting than America."

William smiled. "She doesn't see it that way. She misses looking after Peter. And you avoided the question, what's going on?"

Arthur sniffed hard through his nose and looked away, fiddling with the half finished butt of the cigarette between his fingers morosely as he watched the smoke spiral upwards. William could read him like a book sometimes.

"I got a lead." He said, keeping his voice mild. His brother raised an thick eyebrow and his eyes darkened with curiosity as he leaned forward in his seat.

"A solid lead this time?" He questioned. He did not mean it offensively, because in his line of business there were many dead ends, more than he could count, but even then the words still brushed him the wrong way. He opened his mouth to argue but William cut across. "Save me the complaints Artie, you know what I mean. You've been chasing this man's trail for going on ten years now, if this isn't solid I think it's high time to stop searching-"

"Stop?" The word was sour on his tongue. He had never thought his brother would even suggest such a thing. "Bloody hell, you know why I can't stop this. I have to catch him Will, he's a dangerous man who destroys everything and everyone he comes into contact with. I have to stop him so that other families don't have to go through the same trouble we did."

William was very quiet as he surveyed him. For the first time Arthur noticed how old his brother was looking, how the wrinkles on his face were deeper now than they had been the last time he had seen him, his green eyes clouded with sadness and age.

"I don't know if this would have been what Rhys wanted." He said softly. Arthur snapped, throwing down his cigarette into the ashtray with such ferocity that ash peppered the table top. He got to his feet and stormed the few steps into the kitchen area.

_How could he even suggest such a thing?_

"Rhys wouldn't have wanted other people to die, William," He found himself searching through the cupboards for tea bags and cups to make himself a drink even though he was not thirsty. His hands skidded over the cups with a loud clatter as a sick feeling settled in his stomach. He could not catch the other man's eye. "I think I know my own twin."

William was silent and the room was filled with only the lingering smoke and the hiss of the gas stove as it boiled the water on the hob. Arthur leant over the counter with his back to his brother, his eyes focusing in on the same cracks in the surface of the work top where someone had sliced too hard with a knife. Somewhere in the house a clock chimed three in the morning.

Rhys had been Arthur's twin, but he had died some years ago in a suicide. Right from the off Arthur, who had just joined the forces, had known something was off; he knew his brother would never kill himself. He wasn't the sort of person to give up like that. But the police had dropped the case. Arthur had searched the evidence as much as he could. Nothing.

Then when all hope was almost lost he received an anonymous tip-off, pointing him in the direction of the Italian police. One thing led to another and he found a connection in his brother's records to one Mr Roma Vargas: Mafia boss. The news had shocked him, mainly because he had never thought his brother would be involved with organised crime. Sure he had been the more flighty one of the two but he was a good man; perhaps that was why they had framed his murder.

Behind him William shifted restlessly in his chair.

"The lead?" He spoke up tentatively, almost in a whisper. Arthur sighed.

"The Grandson." He explained, suddenly weary. The full day watching the house had made his eyes sore and he rubbed them weakly. God he needed to sleep. "He was working in the shop downstairs the whole time I was here and I didn't even notice him; he let slip some good information, enough for us to track down the house."

"You have a twenty four hour watch?" He sounded curious now, maybe even eager. The kettle boiled and Arthur took it off the stove before the noise could wake up the boys in the bedroom, if they were not listening at the door anyway.

He poured two cups of tea, making William's milky and sweet as he liked it and his own black. "Of course, what sort of half ass bobby to you take me for man?"

He returned to the table, placing the cups delicately on the surface before resuming his seat. Beside him, William's face seemed to be contorting, mixing between conflict and admiration. He watched this over the top of his cup, trying to hide his faint smirk as his brother visibly wrestled with his emotions.

"I want in." He grunted eventually, glaring at him from across the table with his thick eyebrows pulled low over his eyes. Arthur raised one of his own artfully and hummed.

"Oh you do, do you?" He said lightly. "What about all this stopping nonsense?"

William's features blanched. "Look, I didn't mean- ah forget it." He scooped up his cup and drank from it greedily. "It's just- thing is Arthur you've been obsessed with catching Vargas for all these years, you basically threw yourself into the police force training to find the guy. I'm fed up of watching my little brother kill himself on a fools errand. But if you have a good lead at last then I'm all for helping you. For Rhys, and for you."

Arthur was not sure how to respond. It was true, for a long time his only thoughts had been to catch the man that had caused all the pain in his life. He had left the thought at the corner of his mind, tinder for when something came up. Meeting Lovino had been like a spark to his passion once more. This time, this time he would catch him; it would be him who would have the pleasure of seeing his face through the bars of a cell. But what would he do when it was all over?

"Are you sure?" He asked slowly. "It'll be dangerous, I mean in the last week alone the amount of gang related activity has increased by double. Reports suggest it's the Russian's, meaning-"

"Meaning they're coming onto the Italian's turf." William finished thoughtfully. "We need to stop both of them or innocent people are going to be caught in the crossfire."

There was a sudden clatter down the stairs of the latch being put on followed by the slow steps of someone coming up. The brother's shared a glance and a moment later Francis entered the room. Arthur was immediately struck by the Frenchman's plain dark suit and rather rough looking expression, his blue eyes were wary and tired but upon seeing the older Kirkland seated at the table his handsome face lit up.

"William! What a pleasant surprise!" He all but danced into the room, running up to the ginger haired man to shake his hand which he did with a large grin forming on his sharp features.

"Francis you bastard, what have you done to your hair?" He laughed in response. Arthur scowled at the show of affection, Francis and his brother had been close friends since their first meeting at Alice's funeral, hitting it off instantly over their love of women and annoying a certain Englishman. He glared at the two of them over the top of his tea cup. "It's long enough to tie back! Do you want to look like a woman or something?"

"On the contrary _mon ami_, I wish to look like a rouge." Francis winked, his smile a perfect curve on his face. Arthur cut across him crossly before he could say anything else.

"And where have you been? Why did you leave the boys alone?"

He blinked and looked in his direction as though he was only just noticing him sat at the table. A small crease appeared between his thin eyebrows at his words and a brief spasm of confusion flashed across his features.

"But weren't you meant to be 'ome early tonight?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "No you idiot. I told you this morning I wouldn't be back while late, that I was busy with work."

"Oh," he said simply. The lack of concern in his voice infuriated him further, he had to resist the urge to jump across the table and throttle his stupid neck.

"Oh? Oh?" His voice rose a little too loudly and he dropped it back down to a whisper so that the boys wouldn't be woken up. "Jesus Francis, you left them alone for hours! Anything could have happened in that time; where the hell were you?"

"Out," He said quietly, his usually handsome face drawn into a sombre expression. Arthur took in the suit once more, it wasn't his usually fancy attire but it was smart enough for a date. Unlike himself who had experienced two failed relationships, Francis was well known for being a man who liked to enjoy a variety of women. More than once he had crept out on dates, only to return in the early hours of the morning looking exhausted but happy. It was like having another child in the house and it sometimes drove Arthur nuts; he was too irresponsible sometimes. Although tonight he looked far from happy, perhaps the lady in question had turned him down. For some reason the thought of Francis getting kicked out of a hotel room with his trousers around his ankles made his anger wear off a little.

"I hope she was very pretty."

"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies." He shrugged. Beside him in the other chair William watched the exchange with a suspicious expression but said nothing. "Anyway, I am tired. I am going to bed. Will you be okay sleeping on the sofa William?"

The older man groaned, stretching his neck but smiled weakly. "It'll be better than sleeping on a plane seat, I'll give you that."

Francis clapped him on the back, his usual grin floating back into place. "We'll sort something better out tomorrow. You can have Arthur's bed."

"No he bloody won't." Arthur snapped but the two other men just laughed.

"Goodnight you two." Francis chuckled dismissively as he swayed from the room. Both Kirkland's watched him go, William with a curious expression and Arthur with a scowl as he realised he had gotten away without a proper telling off.

William turned to him, his green eyes questioning. "So, I'm in?"

The younger of the two sighed as he stood up, collecting the cups in a swift movement. He had to admit, it would be easier if he had his brother's help. "Fine, you're in. But you don't get my bed."

oOo

The ground swallowed up the poorly constructed coffin like the maws of a giant beast from the depths of hell itself. In the darkness the hole in the dirt of the graveyard was a gaping scar on the earth.

It should have been sunny, it should have been daytime. He should have been surrounded by family and friends to hold onto in his time of need. Instead they buried the body by the light of old gas lamps which threw shadows across the floor. They warped and flickered in the light of the flames, it was kind of heathen in a way, how they were burying the body like some sort of night time ritual.

The priest's face was a mask of dislike as he was forced to complete the rites by Mathias who stood behind him threateningly, though he was not scared, that much was clear. His eyes held no fear, only dislike. Scipio was a man of God and would not allow one of the flock to be buried without the proper rites, even if it meant concealing a murder victim from the police. He carried on reading from the Bible in front of him in a calm and clear voice, but to Lukas it sounded like nothing, only a faint buzzing reached his ears. Around him the other peoples faces were frozen and blank, like mannequins. Markita's lips were pursed tight, she did not want to be there but Mathias had dragged her along, her eyes darted off into the darkness occasionally in fear of being caught. Lukas face crumpled in grief but he found he could no longer cry. He felt numb, empty.

A clock chimed the hour somewhere not far off, breaking the silence. He was all too aware of the sound of the two heavies wheezing as they lowered the casket, the mumble of the pastor's rites all fell on him; along with the sound of his own laboured breathing as he stared into the dark of the grave.

His life had revolved around caring for his brother but now he was gone he had nothing. He had failed his duties as a brother and now he would be alone. A single tear carved a path down his cheek as the soil covered up the only thing he had left in his life for good.

He felt dead.

oOo

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please drop me a review (almost 100 now people :D YAY!) and tell me what you think. If you've only just started following let me know what you think, why you're following etc. It's nice to hear from people and lets me know if I'm doing a good job!**

**So this chapter sees the first hints of Scotland, I know he's not canon (yet) but I do love the fanon design. And being from England I always feel bad that the Scottish are lumped with us when they're a seperate country :P So welcome Scotland (There is also a quick mention of Ireland, Northern Ireland, Wales and Brittania but they won't appear in the plotline and are only side characters that make up Arthur and William's family- For future reference their family is a mum and older sister, William, Arthur and his twin and a younger brother).**

**The next chapter will be shorter than this, only one scene, so shouldn't take too long to write. However what with my essays which are due in AGAIN it might take me a while to start them so I'll see how it goes. And don't worry, after the next chapter it's back onto Lovi and Antonio, I just needed to tell this section first :)**

**Thanks for reading :D**


	17. This is War

**Shameless use of a song for the title...  
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**So this chapter wasn't as short as I originially planned, mainly because I didn't plan the last half until a few days ago. I felt bad for leaving poor Lovi hanging there so you have a scene where I brought them back :D It's been a while chapter-wise but time-wise they appear every 'day'. **

**This has been read through but not manually beta'd so forgive any mistakes :)**

**And I've been researching more into Rome with my beta. We had a bit of a fit when we realised I'd been writing something I knew nothing about :') haha. Might put more on that up on my profile if we find a source that isn't wiki :P**

**AND THANK YOUU! Last chapter made this fic finally topple over to 100 reviews :D So very happy. Thinking of doing another one shot for the 150th reviewer so more news on that next chapter :D much love to everyone who reviewed and joined us here in the land of creepy Rome ;D WELCOME.**

**Anyway enough blabbering... Only the plot of this story is mine :) And human Birdie :Y**

oOo

It was the early hours of a fine summer morning and the sun had started to drift through the crack in the curtains of the second floor with lazy ease, it's white light bright in the darkness of the room. Ivan's office was usually cheerful in colour, despite the contrasts of shades being poorly picked and the decoration a shambles. One wall was even an ostentatious sunflower yellow that made the man himself, sat hunched at his desk, have a sickly pallor to his skin. However today the room was in a state of perpetual darkness, the curtains fastened against the light and no lamps on to brighten the area.

The other men in the room stared at the floor. Toris and Eduard in particular looked as though they were about to vomit all over the tasteless brown carpet at their feet. It was only Gilbert that seemed relaxed as he stood at the front of the others, almost shielding them, with his helper boy by his side whose dark gaze was impassive as usual and fixed on a point just behind the bosses head. The pale haired man watched the Russian with a calm expression as though he was merely waiting for the onslaught of rage to happen. His oddly coloured eyes bore down on the taller man, who sat in his chair looking thoughtfully at the table top as though there was something there to interest him. Ivan's cool violet eyes caught the morning light from the window briefly as he leaned back and into the beam before disappearing back into the shadows so that only his hands on the table could be seen.

"Tell me Raivis," His voice from the darkness addressed the young boy who shook beside his desk. Raivis flinched and turned to him with wide eyes that darted in their sockets like a cornered rat. "What is your purpose here?"

"M-my purpose, Sir?" His voice shook in fear and confusion. He yelped when the man giggled lightly.

"Yes boy, your purpose." His voice was even, although Gilbert could sense the dangerous edge to his words as Ivan's already frayed temper was tested. Behind him he felt Toris and Eduard tense up in fear, for the boy and themselves most likely. "What you are here for. Your job. What is it you do?"

Gilbert thought the poor boy would burst into tears or collapse, the pressure too much for his little heart to handle. "To serve you-u Sir, to assist you by running errands and-"

"And what would happen if you failed on these errands?"

Ivan's tone was dangerously cheerful now as he turned back to face his other subordinates, sliding forward in his seat so that they could see his face again. Gilbert refused to show any fear and merely stared back blankly at the man's grin as though it meant nothing to him. He hated it when the boss used the kid as a emotional punching bag to prove a point, it wasn't fair, but he saw the effect it had on the other lackeys and he knew it served it's purpose. Stupidly loyal, Toris would loathe to see his little friend tormented for something he had done wrong, and even the stoic Eduard would feel some pity. Raivis was the perfect tool to keep the others in line.

The boy's reply was faint so that he almost missed it when it came. "I would be punished."

"Please, Sir," The tension must have got to Toris because he suddenly spoke up from behind him, his voice quick as he kept his eyes on the floor. Gilbert couldn't help but pray for him to shut the hell up. "Let us explain-"

"I don't want your explanations." Ivan leaned even more forward in his chair, looking almost like he was readying himself to pounce on them. The smile on his face stretched painfully wide and his skin caught the light horribly, making it look like wax rather than flesh. There was something inhuman about the look on his face that chilled Gilbert more than his words ever could. It was the heartless smirk of a child that had not got his own way before he pulled the heads off his toys, on the body of a man it was somewhat disturbing.

"But-"

"I wanted results." He spoke louder to cover his subordinates wimpers. "I wanted a truck of imported booze to be transported to the buyer. It was not difficult. It was not hard. But here you stand before me with no goods and you tell me you _failed_."

"We were tricked actually." Gilbert corrected lightly. Ivan swivelled his gaze onto him with venom.

"Gilbert." He spat his name as if it left a foul taste in his mouth. His false smile crumbled when looking at the pale hair man to form a sour expression, the feral anger he felt towards him proved too great, he could not put up a front before him. With him he was more human. And more repulsive. "I put you in charge and this is all you have to say?"

"It's all there is to say, Ivan." He retorted. "There was nothing we could have done, those Italians are sneaky as hell. And quick too, we only managed to hit one of them. But with that shot they'll have lost him so feel happy you nicked a chunk off Roma's stone."

Ivan relaxed and leant back in his chair thoughtfully. Behind him Gilbert could almost sense the other men holding their breath as their boss thought over his words. Raivis' jaw worked as he chewed the inside of his lip, subconsciously leaning away from the man at the table. Eventually Ivan spoke.

"Accidents happen. There will always be more shipments, but not more men." His tone was dark but contemplative. "You did well to take one of Roma's dogs but I will not allow you to fail again, Gilbert. This is your last chance. But it seems to me you cannot run things alone, I will have to call in Winter to help you keep an eye on things."

He resisted the pull a face. Winter was one of Ivan's 'friends', if a man like Ivan could have any people as close as a friend. Gilbert had never met him but he had heard of his ruthless nature from the other men in the group; he was not a man to be crossed. He did not like the idea of having to share his position with him but at least the other guys had got off. Wordlessly he nodded.

"Sure thing." He said, unable to refuse himself a small smirk in the other man's direction. He did not notice it and instead Ivan looked towards Toris and Eduard with a cheerful expression.

"You two can go away now, be thankful that this man here has a sharp mind and tongue to protect you with."

So Ivan was not as dense as Gilbert believed. The two men behind him took Ivan's order, almost running from the room in haste to leave. The boss watched them go with a surprisingly sad expression on his face, Raivis with longing as he was not dismissed and had to remain standing by his side. Gilbert knew the feeling and wondered what it was that Ivan could possibly want to say to him.

Gilbert spoke first. "You know Ivan, Roma's actions mean he's ready to fight you for this city. By ordering his grandkid's death you've opened a whole can of worms."

The thoughts had been on his mind for a while now. He had not liked the plan the Russian had come up with, his intuition flaring up had shouted that it was a bad idea. Roma Vargas was not a man to take a threat like that lying down. He had run this city long before Ivan had come along and settled there. There would be repercussions; the stealing of the shipment was only the start of their problems. If Gilbert was right this would turn out into a full on war if it wasn't stopped.

"Vargas started this." Ivan said with a dismissive shrug. "He wouldn't share the city, I was only sending him a message. I want the town now. That old man and his silly family can't run it well enough, it's only right that someone like me take over."

"So what happens now?" Gilbert said. Before the Russian had seemed eager to see what Vargas would throw at him, now he seemed displeased like the other man's actions were not living up to his expectations. He looked bored.

Ivan stood up slowly, stretching to his full height and walking over to the window, past the boy who flinched in fear as he passed. He stared through the crack in the curtains to the street below. With a large gloved hand the tall man reached up a hand and fingered the scarf at his neck that he wore over his suit. It was the middle of summer and Gilbert wondered how he could stand it, but thinking back he had never seen the boss without the trademark garment caressed around his throat.

"Roma is testing us, we will not be so pleasant back. I will send someone to warn him one last time. After that this is war, a war he won't win."

There was a brisk knock on the door behind him which opened without further notice. Ivan looked annoyed but his face calmed quickly when he saw that it was his older sister, Katyusha. The woman was wearing a pretty business suit but her eyes were downcast and her bottom lip jutted out.

"There is a man here to see you brother." She said. Her tone was soft and Gilbert felt rather than heard the distrust in her words. The man in question must have been a stranger, it was if she was asking permission to send him away rather than let him in.

"What does he want?" Ivan asked, returning to his seat and lounging there like the lord of the manner, ready for business. Katyusha pouted pitifully.

"He's a haggler." Instantly Ivan seemed to perk up, his eyes growing wide and expectant. "Says he's from the Wang group and that he was sent here to make a deal of some sort."

"Let him in." Ivan demanded, his features suddenly excited. His sister nodded and left the room, a look of despair plastered on her face that only Gilbert seemed to catch before the door shut behind her. Gilbert turned to face the Russian with one sceptical eyebrow raised. He could not believe that after all that had happened the man could still think about the next importation. He was controlled by the deliveries in the same way that some people were ran by the clock, it was like a game to Ivan, to collect all the shipments before Vargas could. Collect them all and you win the game, and destroy any pawns along the way.

Ivan turned to him with an indulgent smile as he fiddled with his scarf. "I think we need someone on the inside of this Vargas thing Gilbert. Someone who can tell us all we need to know."

"A rat you mean?" He highly doubted any man would willingly sell out their own boss, especially a boss who did not have a great record with keeping his men safe. A flash of guilt at the shot that had probably killed the young man the night before blinked across his mind for a second, all he could see was the frozen moment when the bullet had passed through him and the look of pain and shock. But the next second it was gone and all he could see was the Russian's deadly grin.

"Yes a rat, see what you can do, hmm?" He said cheerfully as the doors once again opened behind them and Katyusha entered bringing a young man in a white suit with her, his dark eyes were focused straight ahead with an unwavering glare under his perfect black hair that framed his feminine features. Ivan's smile widened in an attempt to be friendly. "Ah, welcome. Please take a seat. Gilbert, I'm afraid we'll have to finish this conversation later. I'll be in touch."

Oh he knew he would be. With only a tip of his hat in Katyusha's direction, Gilbert headed out of the room with Birdie at his heels; only glancing back just as the doors closed in the boy and the older man. He hoped that kid knew what he was getting himself in for. He adjusted his hat and walked away.

oOo

That morning in the Vargas household passed much in the same way that the one before it. Lovino was awoken by Antonio, once again in his room, who brought him a simple breakfast of toast straight from the kitchen and chatted aimlessly to him while he munched it in bed. He was still not used to the other man's presence and felt on edge as he sat pleasantly at the foot of his bed, why he could not tell. He was not used to having someone in his room in those precious morning hours, especially someone so cheery. Hell, the only people that entered his room on a regular basis were Elizabeta to clean and Feliciano to annoy him. Although in the past few months he hadn't enter his room as much any more and had not crept into his bed since the other day. He would never admit it out loud but it was nice to have the company for once, even if it was the idiot Spaniard.

After breakfast he was once again handed clothes over his changing screen and shoes. This time he allowed Antonio to tie his shoelaces without complaining, reasoning in his head that if the idiot wanted to do them he might as well let him. It was only laces after all and it saved him the trouble. Afterwards the bodyguard bustled around in the room for a while as Lovino put his feet up and curled up on his window seat with the newspaper that had been brought up with his breakfast. He flicked through the pages with growing irritation, the loud rustle of the large sheets of paper cutting through the silence.

"Anything good?" Out of lack of things to do Antonio had found himself some boot polish and was currently shining a pair of Lovino's shoes with an expression of utmost concentration. Involuntary, Lovino clicked his tongue against his teeth in annoyance.

"Nope, all garbage." He grunted. He'd only been reading it for a few minutes but there was nothing of importance in there; he threw it down next to him. He felt distinctly touchy, like there was something in the air that told him bad things were going to happen. It was a feeling he couldn't shake even though the room around him was the same as normal, if somewhat cleaner than usual. The clothes he usually chucked on the floor before getting ready for bed were gone and clean ones had been folded ready to put away by his night stand. The room was surprisingly dim for a summer day, clouds had been gathering all morning and a thin veil of them covered the sky and blotting out the sun's rays. Consequently the room was drab and unwelcoming. And too quiet.

"It's very calm here when Feliciano is at school." Antonio commented after a particularly long quiet period. He inspected the shoes before him critically before resuming his scrubbing. "It must have been very draining for you to have to put up with it."

He snorted in response.

"He's definitely the louder one of the family." When Lovino had been at school and had his days filled with learning he had been content because he knew no different. But the three year age gap meant that by the time he left, Feli was still in education. He had still not gotten accustomed to the quietness of the house when his brother was gone. Sometimes he felt like he could go mad in the emptiness. It made him want to yell and throw things, made him want to scream. It was one of the main incentives for him to get a job; independence and something to do that wasn't akin to pouring acid into his ears. Now when he had lost the ice cream shop he was painfully reminded of the mind numbing boredom that came with living off his Grandfather and having no hobbies or friends.

The boredom often gave him migraines and he was not surprised when his head pounded briefly before disappearing. Damn it. Antonio glanced up from his shoe polishing with concern as he sat up and rubbed his head weakly.

"Something wrong Lovi?" He asked. Lovino winced, half from the pain in his head that shot up once more and half from the use of nickname.

"Headache." He grunted pressing the heel of his hands into his eyes, momentarily blocking out all the light so that it was only darkness and white spots. It didn't help much but it eased the pain somewhat. He heard Antonio get up and come to stand by him, flinching when his large hand probed his forehead.

"Hmm, you don't have a temperature." He hummed thoughtfully, peeling his hands from his eyes with little effort. Lovino winced at the light and grumbled but did not fight him off as he inspected his face, Antonio's green eyes were large and concerned. "Do you need to lay down?"

"It's just a migraine idiot, I'll take some medicine and it'll be gone." He said shoving the other man off his as his hand lingered for an annoyingly long time on his head. Antonio smiled, back to his cheerful self seeing that the problem would be easily fixed.

"I'll go fetch you some now, Lovi!" He sang and all but ran from the room before Lovino could yell after him about the nickname. Honestly, the guy was an idiot, but it was nice to be able to relax and not do the work himself. He stood up from the window seat and walked over to his desk, taking a seat with a sigh as his head pounded a little. He rubbed his eyes warily.

The door opened behind him, Antonio was back with the drugs and not soon enough. He turned around to look at the door, wondering why the man wasn't hurrying, but he was surprised when he came face to face with a shirted chest that was not the Spaniard's. He quickly looked up to see his Grandpa's face looking down on him with a small, indulgent smile.

"_Nonno_!" He yelped, his voice rising in shock. He turned and winced as he head gave a protest at the sudden movement. "I didn't think it was you."

Roma laughed lightly as he placed the papers that he had been carrying in his hand on the desk. "I just saw Antonio go downstairs. You have him trained wonderfully I must say. What is he fetching you?"

Lovino couldn't help but eye the papers on the desk suspiciously out of the corner of his eye. They looked formal and he could just make out lists of numbers which echoed ghostly through the thinness of the paper. A slow numbing feeling spread in his stomach as he realised that it must be work of some sort that his Grandfather wanted him to do. He tried to return the smile but it fell a little short.

"Just some tablets, I have one of my migraines." He explained. His Grandpa cocked his head to one side thoughtfully, his gold eyes dark in the poor light of the room as he placed a hand to Lovino's forehead much in the same way Antonio had done but with more force so that his head snapped back a little. He tutted in anger, his smile fraying a little around the edges.

"Poor Lovi," he mumbled, his hand sliding down from his head to his neck. "Sick again? You can't keep this up _tesoro_, I need you to start your duties soon."

There was a dangerous edge to the older man's tone that Lovino didn't like and his mind screamed a small warning. He was pushing his Grandfather's patience and he would not wait forever for him to start work. And he should be taking the work gladly after all, it was money and security and it mean getting back at the people who had killed his parents. He opened his mouth to assure him of this when with a violent twist that sent a spasm of pain to his head, Roma turned Lovino's head to the side forcibly. His other hand reached up and ground into the skin of his neck with so much force that he gasped in pain; a noise which his Grandpa took it as a sound of pleasure and continued to massage his neck in the same way.

"I thought you were going to get better for me, Lovi." He hummed as Lovino tried not to cry out. He did not want to tell him he was being too rough in case it angered him so he worked through the pain, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. "You promised me."

"I'm sorry." He gasped through a rather harsh twist of skin. Roma gave his neck one final painful tug and then stopped, his hands lingering thoughtfully around his neck like a collar. Lovino breathed a ragged breath as he felt the flutter of his Grandpa's hands work in a proper massage, the older man humming a song under his breath as he worked as though he had never done it in any other way.

There was a long oppressive silence where Roma said nothing, not acknowledging the apology at all which made Lovino nervous. Was he mad with him?

"What are the papers for Grandpa?" He quickly asked, wanting to show his interest in the subject even though the thought made him feel quite sick.

The thrum of his purr ran along his arms and into his neck. His voice was nonchalant but he could sense the gravity in the word. "Just a little bookkeeping work for you. I thought it best to start off simple."

Of course, that explained the numbers. Lovino had always been good at maths and it was this skill rather than his artistic side that was encouraged to grow. He wasn't fond of maths but he was admittedly good with numbers and it was only natural for him to receive such work. He was partially pleased that it wasn't anything else, he did not fancy ordering people about or worse. He could deal with paper.

"That's fine, I'll work on them later." He vowed. Roma continued to kneed his neck, the strokes now a lot more pleasant and gentle and actually nice. He could almost feel the smile against the back of his head as his Grandfather leant forward and kissed the top of his hair lovingly.

"I know you will Lovi," He murmured into his scalp. One of his fingers traced the line of his neck right to the edge of his jaw, the lightness of his touch was like a feather and it made him shiver slightly. "You're a good boy."

The door burst open and Antonio returned. He could not turn to see him but he heard his voice."Lovi, I got you-"

He stopped. Lovino turned his head slightly to see the Spaniard stood with a shocked look on his face, holding a glass in one hand and a wet cloth with some form of tablet in the other. His green eyes were wide at the scene as though he had walked in on something he shouldn't have but the next second this was gone and his grin was back in place. Or was it? There was something about the set of his mouth that seemed a little off, but it couldn't be. Antonio after all was about as dense rock.

"Grandpa was just dropping off some work." He explained after the idiot had been stood their for a long moment. Carefully Lovino unwound himself from his Grandpa's hands and stomped over to the bodyguard, impatiently holding out his hand for the tablets. "Come on, my head is pounding."

Antonio blinked as though emerging from a dream and passed him the required objects. He chugged down the medicine and water as Roma spoke behind him.

"You're so very helpful Antonio." He said his voice cheerful and right behind him as his hand crept onto Lovino's shoulder, the smile on his lips was similar to Antonio's in that it was a little off but then again it could have been the angle he looked at him at. "I don't know what Lovi would do without you."

He gave his shoulder a painful squeeze suddenly and Lovino winced involuntarily as it aggravated his bruises. He was sure his Grandpa didn't mean to do it but it didn't stop it from hurting. He was even more surprised when Antonio lunged forward suddenly with the wet cloth, placing it into his hands but keeping his own fingers around it so that it sat between their fingers. The bodyguard grinned up at the older man sincerely.

"Well I'm here now. I assure you he will be very safe with me." In response Roma chuckled, reaching forward his other hand to pat Antonio playfully on the cheek. He did not move.

"Of course, I have full faith in you, _amico_." He turned to Lovino with his burning eyes and looked down at him sternly. "I have something I wish to tell you at dinner, please have the work done by then, _sì_?"

A distinct feeling of dread rose in his stomach at the words. He couldn't say why but the idea was not a pleasant one, the last time he had announced something he had got a bodyguard. But he replied as though the thoughts weren't going through his head, forcing a smile as wide as it would go."_Sì Nonno._"

Roma smiled and with one last squeeze of his shoulder, exited the room. He watched his tall back disappear and the doors close behind him; a small blush growing on his face when he realised Antonio was still holding onto his hand. He tugged himself out of the other man's grasp and flopped himself down on the bed which was the nearest thing, covering his face with the flannel. He would wait for his headache to subside and then get a start on the work his Grandfather had left.

"Was he here long?" Antonio's voice came from where he'd left him standing, he cracked open one eye and peered out from under his facial cover to see him facing him. He was biting his lip as he ran his hand through his hair making it stand up on one side. Lovino sighed.

"He only came in a few minutes after you left." He said letting the coldness of the flannel fall back onto his face. It helped with the pain in his head but not enough. He would have to wait for the tablets to kick in, such a bother. "Why, what's it to you?"

"Nothing I-" He stopped himself with a cough. He could not see his face but when he next spoke he was tentative. "What was he doing?"

Back to the silly questions again? He thought he had stopped yesterday but they were back again. It left him confused but most of all irritated; he was not in the mood to be questioned. He had a headache. And it was not Antonio's place to ask such questions, he was a servant at best.

"What do you mean?" He snapped despite himself. He felt the bodyguard move slowly closer.

"I mean, well I-", he fumbled uselessly over his words. The act irritated him further. First he asks something stupid again and then he can't even clarify what he means. With his nerves rattled Lovino shot up suddenly, the cloth flying from his face and falling to the floor with a dull thud.

"Out with it." He demanded, ignoring Antonio's shocked and hurt expression as he launched into a tirade. He felt the heat rise in his face. "Damn it, if you're going to ask something: ask it. Don't stand there gibbering at me. What is it you want? Well?"

The bodyguard stood there, not a foot away from him by the bedside, one of his hands stuck to his head and his fingers through his hair. His expressive mouth which was usually so happy was turned down in a small, unsure frown as he mouthed words but seemed incapable of getting them out. His eyes were lost as they seem to plead with him to calm down. Lovino would have none of it.

"Out!" He yelled, the other man's presence suddenly repulsive to him. He didn't want to see him like that. "Just get out Carriedo. Now!"

Antonio's eyes widened but he resumed a normal stance and bowed stiffly. He trotted swiftly across the room and through the door which his Grandfather had previously vacated. When he left the room suddenly seemed all the more empty and dark. The silence was too overpowering and Lovino found himself shoving himself into the pillows on his bed, covering his ears as if silence was a noise that was far too loud.

He couldn't believe Antonio; what was wrong with him? If he had a problem working for his family he should have left when he got the chance. It was his own fault-

No it was his. Guilt burned the inside of his stomach, it was him that had got the Spaniard involved in his lifestyle, him that had dragged him in without warning to a criminal empire. If he was going to yell at someone he should have yelled at himself. Hadn't Antonio saved his life? And he was repaying him with a job that was dangerous and for the most part unpleasant; he had to deal with him after all.

Lovino shoved his face further into the pillows as he ignored the rising urge to apologise for his rudeness, even though he knew he was still mad with the guy. It felt like with every question Antonio was worming his way further into himself, he was so used to keeping his guard up at all times and never letting anyone in that the bodyguard was almost too overwhelming. He did not know how to act. Antonio must have a problem with his Grandpa to act in such a way, all the looks and the questions. He could not understand why; he was a good man. Or at least he was in the home, he was strong willed sure but it was normal, no better, to keep his family in check. Lovino did not care to think what he would have been like without Roma's influence on him, correcting him when he messed up.

So why didn't he just say that? He rolled over and stared up at the blank ceiling without really seeing it, his ears straining for sound beyond the door; there was none. If there was no problem why couldn't he just tell Antonio to stop freaking out? And why was there a stone like feeling in the pit of his stomach?

oOo

**What news does Roma want to tell Lovi? ;D You will have to wait and see...**

**Reviews are appreciated as always :) Let me know what you think etc. **

**Thanks :D**


	18. Burning

**Sorry this took so long guys I had essays I needed to do for uni and I promised myself I wouldn't start this until they were done. By the time they were done I realised this was a longer chapter so it took a while. Apologies!**

**Decided I AM going to do another one shot for the 150th reviewer! *dies* So good luck! It'll work the same way as last time with a prompt and stuff :)**

**Thanks once again to my beta and all the reviewers/favourites/alerts. Sorry if I don't always reply to them but sometimes I hate just putting 'thanksss!' So general cheers over here :)  
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**Anyway, on with the show~ Hetalia is not mine.**

oOo

It took a moment for Kiku's eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room as he sat on the chair before the desk which had been offered to him. He gazedat the pale man at before him with a measured stare as he searched his features for any sign of emotion. He had been warned by Yong Soo and the others that Ivan Braginski was a man not to be crossed and he could not help but agree. As the Russian watched him with the innocent mask in place, the curl of his mouth like a cat's before it dealt the death blow to a bird, he could not help but feel on edge. He did not like it; the feeling was not helped by the darkness of the room and the looming figure of the older woman and the shivering form of the young boy, who stood on either side of the boss like guard dogs. Although Kiku doubted that real dogs would act in the way these people did; the woman seemed hopelessly sad while the boy looked close to a heart attack, his eyes fixed on the floor rather than his face. The woman kept her eyes trained Kiku as if wishing him to disappear.

These people were indeed very strange.

"I will cut to the chase, Sir." Kiku said sitting up straight in his chair and locking his eyes onto the other man's. He successfully managed to ignore the tasteless decoration of the room, blocking it out so that it was only him, the others and the deal, although part of him still simmered as he thought how very unappealing the room was. It was not a place for delicate business; it was the sort of place to be threatening and unwelcoming. "My boss has sent me here with a wonderful business proposition for you."

Ivan's smile stretched on his face in what he must have thought was a pleasant expression. "How is Yao?"

Kiku blinked, unsure how to answer. He was not here for small talk, it was not part of his job; he was here to make a deal. Yet he should be polite above all things if he was to win this man over and seal the deal. It should be easy, so then why did he feel a hard lump of trepidation at the pit of his stomach?

"He is doing well, Sir." He lied. He knew that Yao would not want the news of his illness spread around his business associates, and according to the notes he had read before arriving the Russian was one of his highest paying customers the business got. It would not do for them to believe that the leader of their outfit was unfit to run it. It would make them feel nervous that they would be mishandled.

Ivan's smile cracked impossibly wide. "Is that so Mr...?"

"Honda." He replied tersely, not pleased at how far the conversation was getting away from the subject of his visit. He decided to turn it back around. "Please, Mr Braginski, I am here to discuss business-"

"Of course, of course." The man before him smirked, waving his hand in the air as he settled back into his chair. He interlaced his fingers and stared over them at him with startlingly violet eyes. "Please continue."

Kiku took a breath. When he spoke his words were clear and rehearsed. "Mr Wang has sent me to offer you a large shipment of imported goods that we will be having in within the next week. It's good stock, straight from the Canadian border. We wish to make a deal with you as the stock would be perfect for your needs."

Ivan hummed in response. The sound made Kiku lose his place for a second before he continued under the Russian's mocking stare.

"The shipment is pretty large and the problems of getting it to the warehouse are very high. The police have been on red alert lately for any suspected illegal movement, we would take the job at great personal risk and we would like to offer you the shipment for-"

"What makes you think I want the shipment?" Ivan asked, his tone cheerful. Kiku stopped and looked at the man in an attempt to read him but he gained nothing from his face, it was a mask he could not see behind and it was off putting. He was so used to other people wearing their emotions on their sleeve he had forgotten what it was like to be unable to read someone. For a painfully long minute he had no idea how to respond to the question and then his mind finally caught up with itself.

"Sir, you deal in these goods." He winced how his voice came out sterner than he meant and instead of sounding sensible he sounded affronted. "We are offering you them for a reasonable price. It is in both our organisations best interests that you-"

"Now you see, that is where you are wrong." In contrast Ivan's manner was conversational and cheery, but his eyes were like acid on Kiku and he felt their burn upon him. "My business does not run solely in the alcohol market. We deal in many enterprises and do very well, well enough that we could live on their earnings alone. The prohibition was just a chance for some extra cash."

The mobster unfolded his hands and leaned forward in his chair so that he was inches away from Kiku's face. He could feel the flutter of his foul breath on his face and smelt the sourness of it, his every instinct told him to move away but he refused to let the rigid tension fall out of his back. His father had taught him to fear no man and the image of Yao pale and shaking as he stubbornly tried to complete his jobs filled him with strength. He would not crumble.

"And the last time we had _dealings_ with your organisation things did not go so well." Ivan continued with a forlorn expression. "Only last night our shipment was stolen! If anything I think Mr Wang owes me a free batch of goods."

The grin on the other man's face was too pleasant for the subject. Kiku could sense the danger hidden beneath his words like a shark skimming the surface of a sea. If the man's subordinates reactions were anything to go by he could tell he was in trouble; the boy refused to look anywhere but the floor and seemed to be holding back a scream as his mouth was drawn in a thin line. On the other hand the woman with the short hair by the desk, the same who had been so very rude to him at the door, now watched the exchange in pity, her blue eyes glistening with a film of tears. Still, Kiku would not allow himself to be bullied. He had Yao's business to consider. He knew what shipment Ivan was talking about, a shipment that had been delivered many days ago. Any robbery was not their problem.

"I am afraid it does not work like that Mr Braginski." He bowed his head slightly; a respectful gesture even though he seriously doubted this man deserved any respect he had to offer. "The goods in question had already been given to you by our men. If they were taken then it is nothing to do with us as you had already received them. Our side of the agreement was complete, Sir. We owe you nothing."

The pale haired man sat back in his seat as though Kiku's words had pushed him there by force. His oddly violent eyes seemed to look at him a little closer and really consider the young man before him, narrowing slightly. The silence was deathly and the only sound in the room came from the breath of breeze at the open window and the barely restrained whimpers of the young boy.

"Did you know, Mr Honda," Ivan muttered after too long of a pause. "That my company also deal in the medical business?"

"I-I did not." Kiku replied, caught off guard. What did any of that actually have to do with the matter at hand? Ivan simply nodded.

"It is my business that supplies Mr Wang with his medicine, the real price of the drugs would be too expensive for a man of his position to pay for. We sell them at a fair price but even now he is running a little behind on his bills." He shrugged and laughed lightly as if he was telling a joke although Kiku failed to see the humour. "I am a patient man though. I can wait."

Was that a threat? Was Ivan suggesting he would no longer supply Yao with the drugs he needed to keep him well? It was cruel and sadistic to deny a man his medicine, especially when the need was as great as his; above all it was childish. It sickened Kiku to his stomach to think that this man could think that by picking up his toys and putting them out of his way he would not be resourceful and find a way to get them. He could not bully him into getting his own way.

Kiku said nothing to the Russian's statement and instead opted to just stare at him with the unyielding gaze his father used when he was unimpressed with any of his bad habits. He never thought he would use it himself but he found himself doing so to the man before him, gaining a flash of pleasure when Ivan broke contact and stood up.

"I think we are done here, don't you agree?" he said as he held out his hand to Kiku with a sweet smile. It took him a second to realise he was being kicked out without a deal having been made. "It has been nice to meet you Mr Honda but I'm afraid we do not require your services today."

The young man stared at the hand for a minute, deciding whether it was safer to take it and leave or fight the man for a deal when he realised it was no use. The Russian had made up his mind. He stood up swiftly and took the hand, shaking it once and dropping it as though it had been poisoned. Then he bowed, it was always better to be respectful but he was right, he did not deserve any of it.

"I shall convey your greetings to Mr Wang." He said. Ivan seemed pleased as he returned to his seat, the woman rounding the table quickly to take him out. She seemed eager to be rid of him and waited anxiously by his shoulder.

"Please do." He chimed brightly and Kiku turned to leave. His shoulders remained erect even though the weight of failure pressed heavy upon them and as he left through the door the cold tingle on the back of his neck told him that the mobster's icy gaze was still upon him. The quick step of the woman beside him told him of her urgency to be out of the room and her mouth was a thin line when he looked to the side. Kiku could not tell if the look of despair was for him or not.

These were indeed very strange people.

oOo

The Vargas family sat at the dining table with a full three course meal laid out before them on the best silver platters that the house had to offer. Lovino was assaulted by the mouth watering smell of the meal and the sight of the towering plates. However, he could not help but worry about the occasion that could call for such opulence, his Grandfather did not usually order Roderich and Elizabeta to use the better silverware and they were mostly kept hidden away and only used at special times. Only the fact that the bodyguards were stood behind them and not with them made it so that he was not totally on edge. If something very serious was happening then they would all be sat enjoying the meal just as they had when they had eaten together the other day.

As it was, the mood of the room was cheerful; Feliciano shovelled the meal, pasta in a white sauce, into his mouth in a rapid pace, the fork barely leaving his mouth before it hit the plate a second later. His actions went unnoticed by their Grandfather who smiled into his food as Lovino picked at his own beside him. He didn't want to admit it to himself but he was sulking, the presence of Antonio at his shoulder was like a dead weight reminding him of their argument. He was surprised no one could feel the tension between them it was so thick in his own mouth he could barely taste the meal.

He had completed the work his Grandfather had set in very little time. After his headache had gone it had been easy enough to tackle. He'd avoided actually looking at what each number correlated to, focusing instead on the numbers as if they were maths problems at school. Simple additions and divisions he could do and he did not need to know what each one was for. Lovino felt bad because the point of his work was to be more involved with the family but it would not have sat right with him if he'd have know what the finance he was working out came from.

"How was the bookkeeping Lovino?" His Grandfather asked as he surveyed him over the bridge of his glass of juice. It was ironic that a man who dealt in wine and spirits preferred to drink juice on most occasions. Feliciano paused in his scoffing to look up slowly at his brother with wide eyes.

"You did some work for Grandpa today Lovi?" He asked, a brunt edge of confusion in his voice. Lovino shrugged and stabbed at a particularly difficult piece of pasta with his fork so that it wouldn't get away from him.

"It's just some paperwork Feli." He said before turning to Roma to reply, ignoring the slice of Antonio that caught in his line of sight as he moved his head. "Yes Grandpa, I finished the work. It's still on my desk I'll bring it up to you later."

The beam that stretched across the older man's face was bright enough to light the whole room. He leant forward in one swift movement and kissed him on the cheek, giving a small laugh as he sat back in his chair. He was obviously very pleased at his willingness. He preferred it when he was happy because it meant he was doing something right for a change.

"I'm so pleased Lovino," he hummed as Roderich and Elizabeta swept in to serve them, bustling around to refill their glasses. As usual the dark haired man took charge of the two young men while Elizabeta fussed around the master of the house. "I hope that-"

Roma's hand, which had been waving in the air as he spoke suddenly brushed along the maid's side as she leant across the table to refill the glasses. It was a gentle touch and would not have harmed her but her eyes widened if fear as the older man's face contorted into confusion and then slowly into realisation. He blinked and looked up at the woman before him who shook a little. Then his gaze darkened. Despite himself Lovino tensed up.

"My dear are you..?" His Grandfather left the question hanging as he stared forcibly. Out of the corner of his eye Lovino caught the expression on Roderich's face. He looked as if he wanted nothing more than to grab his wife and run from the room and hang the consequences. Both servants' faces had gone an unnaturally pale colour.

Elizabeta opened her mouth and closed it again before she managed to form words. "Y-yes Sir."

It would have been unwise to lie after all. She was wearing a thick dress that was loose but she must have started to show by now, Roma would have felt her slowly increasing bump through the folds of the material. He was not an idiot.

"Why was I not informed?" His voice was acidic, dangerous. The fury in his eyes was barely concealed below the surface, it smouldered like the heat of fire through coloured glass and Elizabeta cringed before it. Lovino stared, wanting to say something but unable to find the words that would stop him when Feliciano spoke up.

"It was going to be a surprise Grandpa!" He sang. He had finished his meal and was watching the exchange with wide eyes, the smile on his face merely decoration; behind his eyes he looked fearful. "Roderich and Elizabeta were going to tell you the news but what with all the stuff with Lovi they wanted to wait until everything was okay again."

Roma blinked as he turned his gaze onto his youngest grandson looking confused. "A surprise?"

"Yes, Sir." Roderich butted in, hurrying around the table so that he was stood by Feliciano whose shoulder he placed a thin hand on and gave it a thankful squeeze. The pale man tried to form a smile but it was thin and lacked conviction. "We wanted to wait before sharing our news with you. I'm sorry if you have been offended."

Roma looked from the butler, to the maid and back again thoughtfully. Elizabeta clutched the jug she was carrying to her chest with shaking hands as she bit her lip, too nervous to care if she was seen. Roderich looked scared too but also highly alert; his stance was defensive. There was a long pause.

The older man's face suddenly burst into a large grin as he stood up to shake the butler's hand. "This is great news, congratulations my dear Roderich! Your father would be so proud of you."

Roderich muttered a thank you as Roma released him and rounded on the maid who he took up in his arms like his own daughter, kissing her cheeks before looking at her at arm's length.

"My dear, how could I not notice?" He asked as she smiled shakily up at him. His previous pleasure seemed to have returned for the moment. "You are practically glowing! I will pray you have a healthy baby boy."

"Thank you, Sir." A blush of relief had spread itself onto Elizabeta's delicate features and she bowed low. Roma was practically bouncing at her side with unmeasured joy as he resumed his seat at the head of the table and surveyed his little family with pride swelling at the corners of his eyes. He placed both hands palm up on the table and, understanding what it meant and what was expected of them, Lovino and Feliciano took one each and held onto them. The grip on Lovino's hand was strong and the thumb that rubbed across his knuckles ruthlessly but he let his Grandpa have his moment.

"This is the perfect time to inform everyone of my news." Roma declared to the room in general. The staff stood up straighter and paid more attention, even Feliciano seemed intrigued. His Grandpa took a deep breath and turned his smouldering sights onto Lovino with care, holding onto his hand a little tighter as he spoke.

"Since Lovi here has finally agreed to take his rightful position in the family I wish to give him something my father gave to me at his age." He said. Lovino's heart thudded loudly in his chest. "And with the news of the baby, it falls perfectly. We are going to have a party, here in the house the day after tomorrow. We shall invite our influential friends for an evening of drinks; it will give you the opportunity to really enter the family. It will make me so very proud."

"A party?" Feliciano gasped looking excited as a huge grin spread onto his face, just in time to distract from the look of horror on his brother's. Of course the younger of the two was a social butterfly and loved to be part of a crowd, Lovino on the other hand had never been a people person and he very much doubted that the night would be anything but a disaster. He turned his head slightly to glance at Antonio, but then turned back as he remembered they weren't taking because his bodyguard was an idiot.

Their Grandfather laughed at the look on the younger boy's face before turning back to the older grandson and keeping his eyes focused watchfully on him. "Yes, a party. With music and dancing and fine food. Oh and costumes, I wanted to bring the Italian here to make it special so I have decided on Venetian masquerade. What do you think?"

Feliciano all but jumped for joy and the squeals that issued from his mouth were enough to even carve a small grin onto the potato eaters face as Ludwig watched his charge flail around in his chair patiently. It all made Lovino feel vaguely sick.

"Of course Elizabeta you will take it easy, I will inform Heracles, he will have to help with the staff." Roma continued, addressing the woman beside him who only nodded politely in response. The older man clicked his fingers to gain Viktor's attention and the spectre-like man hovered to his side like a ghost, his pale eyebrow raised in question. "Viktor, I need you to help prepare the costumes. I have a few in the basement that will need cleaning and adjusting but they will be perfect for the boys and I. The staff, on the other hand, need to be co-ordinated, call in the tailor tomorrow and see what he can do. Cheap of course. I'll leave you to sort it, oh and-"

His Grandfather's gaze trailed briefly to a spot above Lovino's shoulder before fixing back on his face. He did not like the look in his eyes, it was disappointment which he was used to but apparently it wasn't directed at him for a change.

"Please tell him to bring some plain suits. I am tired of looking at Antonio's shabby dress." He rolled his eyes distastefully and tutted. Lovino blinked and, forgetting the argument they had, glanced up to the Spaniard's face to see shock etched across his features. While it was true the suits he wore were a little tatty but Antonio could not be expected to wear the finer things like Ludwig and Viktor, he did not have the money. He could not help how he was dressed. Lovino felt a surprising surge of sympathy for the other man at his Grandfather's words but said nothing as the older man took his hand that was still clasped in his own and pressed it to his lips.

"You will enjoy the party won't you Lovi?" He asked as Feliciano tittered to Ludwig and Viktor made a note on a sheet of paper. His Grandfather's eyes were gold and fire and he found it hard to break his gaze, or even to defy him and tell the truth.

"Yes Grandpa, thank you for giving it to me." He said quietly, forcing a pleasant smile onto his lips. He would try to like the party, even though he did not enjoy company, because it would make his Grandfather proud to see him taking part in the business just like it had when he had completed his tasks. After all the stress of the past few days it was nice to see the older man smile again.

"No problem_ tesoro_," He purred into his knuckles before dropping his hand back to the table and breaking eye contact.

"I think some wine is in order," He said, looking around for the butler. "Roderich, go fetch us some from the basement. Roderich?"

The man in question was nowhere to be seen. It was odd; he never usually left without an order to do so and Lovino had not even seen him leave the room. A brief look of confusion flashed across his Grandfather's features but then he shrugged and turned to Elizabeta instead and repeated the demand. The maid hurried off, but not before Lovino caught sight of her draw and worried face as she went off to fetch the wine, and to search for her husband.

oOo

Roderich closed the dining room door behind his as quietly as he could so he would not disturb the conversation still going on. The entrance hall was barren and cold in comparison to the comforting presence of the other room, aided by the food laden table and chatter which filled the small area with a pleasant glow. It was darker too, the lights having not been switched on yet and under the staircase, where the entrance to the dining hall was, it was especially grim. With one weary hand the butler rubbed his eyes and breathed heavily through his nose.

Part of him wanted to curse and to scream out loud, he could not believe that they had been found out. He had tried to keep his family safe from him but when it had counted the most he had stood idly by and allowed Roma to find out about the baby. It was his duty to protect them and he had failed.

He should have served the man; he should not have allowed Elizabeta to even take part in the service. It was bad enough that Lovino had known, but how had Feli seen through them as easily as he had? He was not complaining but it meant he would have to keep a closer eye on the youngest Vargas now too as well as his Grandfather. He had not liked the look in the older man's eyes and he did not trust him as far as he could throw him. He knew what he had done in his life.

Roderich allowed a shaky breath to inhale and exhale from his mouth as he pondered what to do. He needed something, anything, to get his family away from here and safe. Things were getting worse very quickly and now Roma knew about the baby it would become so very difficult to escape him. He had basically handed him the bullets for the gun aimed at his own head.

"Shit," He swore softly, running his hands through his hair. He felt at a loss, empty. There seemed no way out of this-

Unless..?

The previous day came back to him in a blur of colour and sound. The men in the car, the offer, the familiar green eyes staring at him. Suddenly it was all so clear what he would have to do, it all depended on whether he was brave enough and smart enough to do it.

He could be brave and smart for his child and his wife. He could be anything for them.

Without another thought, Roderich rushed to the kitchen with his mind whirring away in thought. Mechanically he emptied the rubbish that had gathered in the bin, gathering up the bag in his hands he stepped briskly back into the main foyer. The muffled rumble of Roma's voice reached through the door and he made sure that his footsteps were soft on the marble. If anyone asked he would be able to mask his actions with the trash in his hands but he still did not want to draw attention to what he was doing. Roderich was a man who lived a dangerous life but he did not thrive on the danger, rather he loathed it. He preferred to stick to the shadows and avoid all the drama.

A hint of doubt touched the corner of his mind. _Was he doing the right thing?_ His hand which clasped the doorknob between his long fingers felt as though they were shaking but they did not move. He thought briefly of Elizabeta and his resolve strengthened, opening the door and slipping out easily and out onto the evening street.

It was not yet dark. The sun had begun to set over the city and the golden flares of light still bounced through the clumps of clouds that hovered threateningly over the buildings on the street. The street was lit was like a white hot flame, blue from the sky and yellow from the street lights that were starting to switch on in the growing twilight. The day had been cool and a slight breeze curled around Roderich's neck, raising the bottom of his suit with its cold grasp, making him shiver. He stood motionless at the top of the steps with his eyes adjusting to the dark for a minute, trying to persuade himself that he was trying not to steady his breath. He caught the sight of the familiar dark car lingering at the roadside and stepped down towards it.

He made his approach to the car as open as possible, not wanting the men to drive off and leave him standing there. He hoped his expression was even and approachable but he could feel by the tug of his mouth that it wasn't. The rubbish bag clutched between his hands rattled as the car drew ever closer. His mouth felt dry in anticipation.

He was lucky that there was a bin right beside the car on the pavement, otherwise he would have looked like a mad man stood there, or desperate. He was neither. Instead he reminded himself with a small sniff, he was a good man and he had no choice. He made a big show about putting the rubbish in the bin, moving agonisingly slow but keeping his eyes on the man next to him.

The window wound down as he approached the vehicle so that the man inside could look up at him with an eyebrow raised in suspicion. Vash Zwingli had not changed in all the years that they had been apart, his hair was the same style and his eyes were the same green they always had been. A few more lines adorned his face but that was understandable; it had been a very long time since their last meeting.

Roderich focused his eyes on Vash, wondering if his memories of him were as strong as his own. The last time he had seen the man before him they had been only boys. They had attended the same school together and had been inseparable friends since day one. Roderich had not always been as reserved as he was now and was prone to fighting the taller and more powerful bullies the school playground had to offer. He guessed it was something to do with the lack of power he had in his home life that made him strike out in a place he felt free. All the bullies, all the nasty kids were just some variants to the man that kept his father beaten down like a dog. He had wanted revenge on anyone like Roma Vargas; he just lacked the ability to win.

Vash, on the other hand, had been a quiet boy in his class; he had kept to himself most of the time and only spoke if the teacher addressed him, people thought he was odd. One day Vash had stopped an older boy from boxing his brains in, gave Roderich a good scolding and carted him off to the medic room. Since then they had been friends. Vash would step in to stop Roderich getting beaten to a pulp on most occasions and taught him that violence was not always the answer to all of his problems.

But then some things happened with Vash's family, something to do with his little sister and he had to move schools. The other day had been the first time Roderich had clapped eyes on his old friend in over twenty years.

"Did you consider our offer?" Vash asked getting straight to the point. His voice was quiet for there was no other reason for him to be outside but to communicate with the police. Roderich gulped and struggled to find the words that waited on the tip of his tongue as he faked rummaging in the bin for something.

"Yes." He said simply, feeling relieved that he was doing something right for his family. He ignored the burning feeling of dread in the back of his heart and hurried on. "I accept your offer."

Vash scowled and turned to the woman who sat beside him, she searched in her bag on her knee for a second before fishing out a card which she then passed into Vash's waiting hand. The blond haired man made a swift movement and the card was hidden in Roderich's trouser pocket before he could even move his hand to accept it. He doubted he could have held onto it in any case, he could not stop the shaking and his palms were slick with sweat.

"Give us a call," He ordered, his green eyes worried as he surveyed the pale man before him. "You sure you want to do this?"

"My wife..." Roderich managed to mutter in reply, it seemed all the conformation Vash needed and he nodded briefly in reply.

"You better go before you're missed." He noted, winding up the window and signalling the conversation was over but not without one final concerned glance in his direction. Roderich could not afford to linger and hurried away from the scene like he had committed a crime. In his pocket the card burned, it almost felt like a beacon so that when he stepped in the house he subconsciously covered the spot with his hand as if to shield the rays.

The door closed behind him with a thud and he was once again in the foyer. It was cold and he felt a chill run up and down his spine.

The door from the dining room opened and he all but jumped in the air in shock as he feared the worse. It was only Elizabeta. Her face was flushed and worried but she seemed to calm down when she caught sight of him by the door; making sure the entrance to the dining room was firmly shut she hurried towards him with her hands outstretched. He held open his arms wide and they met in the middle of the hall in a breathless mess of shaking limbs.

"I'm sorry dear," she whispered into his suit sounding tearful. His hands flexed as they stroked the back of her neck, trying to soothe her; couldn't she see this was his fault? There was nothing she had even, or could ever do wrong.

But it would all change now. He would make them safe.

"It's okay, it was bound to happen. It's not your fault." He pushed her back so that he could see into her green eyes, wiping a stray hair than had escaped from its place back across her forehead in a smooth motion. She was so very beautiful. "What were you-?"

"She was getting wine." Came a voice from the door Elizabeta has closed behind her. Roderich had not heard anyone enter and flinched when he found the ice blue eyes staring at them with a daunting feeling from across the room. The room dropped a few degrees and he subconsciously drew in his wife closer as Viktor watched them. He seemed impassive as usual but there was something else in his look that brought a chill of fear to his heart.

"Come on," he said, trying to sound calm as he took his wife towards the basement door. He hated how his voice shook as he tried to keep his cool. Viktor watched them go without another word as he stood like a statue in the doorway.

In Roderich's pocket the calling card burned.

oOo

**tesoro- Darling in Italian (according to google translate)**

**The next chapter might take a while: one- it's got some Japan in and his stuff always takes me a while for some reason :I and two- I'm trying to do some other writing for a Pottertalia collab with my beta :') She's done loads of stuff and I haven't even finished one of my points yet o.o I suck. So I'm going to be doing that for a day or two and planning some of my other prompts for it. Hopefully when I upload it you guys will enjoy reading the crack :') It's been a nice break for me after the whole mafia stuff.**

**Don't worry I will still be carrying on with this! This comes first and I will be working hard on this, the Pottertalia will be a break from all the darkness that is Rome xD**

**I wasn't too keen on this chapter but it was as good as I could get it. Thanks for reading my mess :I Reviews loved!**


	19. New Opportunities

**Shameless filler. Sorry it took so long guys but I was really struggling to get this down what with dealing with the new characters and Japan but it's finally done anyway. Thanks for being patient.**

**Reviews from last chapter were greatly appreiciated my loves. And welcome to all the new followers.**

**Sorry this is so short (and probs rubbish) not feeling great. Better soon I promise~  
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**Hetalia isn't mine**

oOo

Arthur stormed down the panelled hallway that lead towards the Commissioner's office with a leaden heart that felt as though it was grazing the top of his stomach, making him want to vomit. As he walked past, people stared at him with wide eyes, meaning he was either looked like he felt or the tough exterior he had been trying to build up was actually working. He face ached with the effort and his jaw ground his teeth together. Or maybe he just looked like he was in pain. He barely took in his surroundings and moved with determination towards his destination even though it was the last place on earth he wanted to be.

The words of the letter rang in his head like a gong, fragments reaching out from his subconscious with their deadly fingers to gnaw at his insides:_ poor conduct... severe reparations... immediate meeting_. It made his insides crawl. He had never in all his time in the forces received such a letter. He had been halfway to the door to leave when Anri had pulled out the innocent looking sheet of paper from a pile and declared it was an urgent message from the head office. Arthur should have been nervous but he had been in too hyped up about getting back to his post watching the Vargas house that he had no time to be panicked, although he soon was when he had read the note on the paper.

"The Commissioner wants to see me." He had croaked, scarcely able to believe his luck. He was surprised he had not thrown up right there in panic but somehow his stomach held.

It had all been going so well, he'd thought, what on earth could he have done wrong? He was finally following a solid enough lead and things were better than they had been in a long time. He really believed this time he would catch Vargas, yet here he was being called to the Commissioner's office for a sudden meeting to discuss his recent behaviour.

"You better get going then, eh?" William had smirked nonchalantly from his seat at Arthur's own desk. His brother had made himself comfortable by putting his feet up on the wooden surface as though he owned the place, his trademark cigarette hanging out of his mouth, puffing way and dripping ash onto the floor.

"You're not coming with me?" Arthur had yelped, already knowing the answer.

William had grinned and taken his roll-up from his mouth, only to fill the gap with one of the doughnuts that Anri had bought for him. She had not stopped dotting on his brother since he had introduced her, and of course William had been an intoxicatingly suave bastard when she was around. Behind her back he ate the sugary treat whole like a pig. Arthur couldn't help but inwardly grumble that he had never received a box of pastries.

"Not my problem little brother." He had said around a pleasant smile and a mouthful of doughnut. Oh how he could have punched him there and then but he stopped himself and left the room abruptly, not even stopping when Anri, returning with coffee, asked where he was going. His brother's laughs followed him as far as the staircase that led to the top floors.

It was because of him that Arthur was now making his way to the office alone. He agonised over what the Commissioner wanted, knowing deep down that it was about his renewal of the Vargas case. How on earth was he meant to defend himself on this? Should he be forward and just tell him how much it mattered to him? Or should he lie and play his findings up? Neither had a positive outcome. He was so stressed out that when he reached the actual door in question he almost went straight past it and had to drag himself the few steps back.

His hand reacted automatically and he pushed open the door. He entered into a light room that acted as a small entrance area to the main office, it was panelled in the same way as the hallway and the wooden walls made the area seem even smaller than it actually wad. Arthur had been in the room only a few times before, once when he was first brought onto the force after transferring from England and the second time when he was having personal troubles and the higher-ups had started to notice. The little room gave him the jarring feeling of the corridor at school where you were meant to wait before seeing the headmaster, it was clinical and too clean to be friendly, it was professional through and through. The room was taken up by three chairs for people to wait on and crammed next to them was a desk in front of the window with the chair positioned that the sun would act as natural light and the occupant would have a perfect view of the room's other occupants. The man at the desk added to the impersonal effect perfectly, he was about as unwelcoming as you could get. He had blond hair, sculpted perfectly around his chiselled features and severe blue eyes behind glasses that turned to him as he entered the room, catching the light ominously and turning opaque.

Arthur coughed awkwardly and approached the desk and the imposing man behind it. "Hello Lieutenant Colonel, Commissioner Väinämöinen wanted to see me? Urgent apparently. Is he in?"

The man stared measuredly at him for a good long moment, long enough for him to feel uncomfortable, and then grunted as he stood up to head to the room adjacent. He slipped in and out of the door in a flash, barely gone for a minute before he re-entered the room and holding the door open for him with a nod.

"The Commissioner will see you now," he said. He voice was low and Arthur almost didn't catch what he had said but he got the meaning perfecting. His heart jumped into his throat as once again he found himself in the office of the man that held his job on the line. It was a very similar room to the previous one only much larger and the window allowed more light to enter the room and make it more cheerful. A fireplace with an ornate mantelpiece dominated one wall, kept perhaps for decoration more than use, which housed a large clock whose tick filled the room with its comforting sound as it casually counted down the seconds of the day. A desk and two chairs were the only objects that took up the small space.

The man sat at the desk was not the sort of person Arthur had been expecting to see when he moved to the American force all those months back. He could remember being initially taken aback by Tino Väinämöinen's age; he was used to seeing Commissioners in their fifties, bloated with pompous arrogance and self belief. Tino was only in his twenties and had, from what he had heard around the office, got to the highest position in the station because his father was the old Commissioner and he had taken over when he had died. It had only meant to be a brief overseeing period but due to the improvement in the work supplied to the city under his control the vote went through that he would stay. Tino was the sort of man that had an approachable aura to him so that when he stood up on his entrance and held out his hand for him to shake it was with a smile, he took it despite the nervous knot in his stomach.

"Welcome Arthur, please take a seat." He motioned to the chair before his desk. The desk itself was easily the size of regular dining table; it was so large that when he sat down across from him it was like looking over a ravine filled with paperwork. Arthur was touched like he had been on his first visit by the photo frames and personal objects that had survived the wreckage of the workplace and stood like sentinels over the wooden wasteland of the desk.

The Commissioner turned his soft gaze onto the Lieutenant Colonel who had filed in behind Arthur to stand ominously at his shoulder.

"Berwald, could you fetch some tea please?" He asked. When next to each other the comparison between the two men was as obvious as the difference in rooms. Berwald was a hulking man, Tino dainty. Arthur knew from talking to Vash, who had been in the force for a while, that Oxenstierna had originally been in the army but had moved to the police force after they found out his vision was not up to regulation standard. He had entered the forces with a desk job and now helped out the Commissioner by acting as his unofficial bodyguard. He had heard stories that Berwald had once broken an officer's hand after he had threatened Tino on his way out of the building, he had not believed it but the officer in question had not been seen since. Arthur could practically feel the burn of the Lieutenant's stares on the back of his neck as he left the room, leaving him alone with the younger man; he could not help but release a breath when he heard the door click behind him.

Tino noticed his discomfort and smiled. "I'm sorry about that; I have asked him to be more welcoming. He's a really nice guy really."

"You don't say." Arthur hummed, as he felt the slow return of the sickening feeling in his stomach bubble anxiously. He had been brought to the office for a reason, the Commissioner's friendly behaviour had thrown him off a little but now he remembered what he was doing there. "What is this about, Sir?"

It was the Commissioner's turn to look uncomfortable as he blushed lightly and reached into a pile of papers on his desk.

"You work on the prohibition squad don't you, Inspector?" He began, pulling out a sheet of paper from the pile and glazing his eyes over it as he spoke.

Arthur huffed and settled back into his seat. "That I do."

"Then perhaps you could explain to me what it is you have been doing for the past few days?" He asked keeping his voice measured and calm as he looked over the sheet in front of him. "We had reports coming in about a transportation of goods not days ago that went horribly wrong. Two groups were fighting over the imported alcohol yet when we go to contact your team there is no one there to take the call. Would you like you explain that to me, Arthur?"

His eyes were gentle but Arthur instinctively flinched at his words, his heart missing a beat. He too had heard about the affair, too late to actually do something, he had been busy watching the Vargas house that night and any calls home would have been ignored; the boys were taught not to take calls from people when he or Francis were not in. It had been a shame too because he could have used the people from the shoot out to help him catch Vargas.

"My team and I were following another lead Commissioner." He said after some thought. He skirted the subject intentionally even though he knew it would not be dropped. Tino seemed curious and motioned for him to carry on but at that moment they were interrupted by Berwald returning diligently with drinks. The tall man manoeuvred around the desk with the rattling tray, placing it on the surface. The movement caught Tino's hand and for a second the strangest looks passed between the two, one that Arthur couldn't quite place, before it was gone and Berwald exited the room, his face a little red.

Tino blushed as he poured the tea into the cups, the amber liquid splashing up as his hands shook a little. Feeling confused Arthur filled the silence the only way he knew how, continuing his defence for the Commissioner in an attempt to protect his job. He was all too aware that if he didn't present himself well now he could be out of a job or worse, demoted down the forces where he had no power to catch his number one target.

"The lead was very significant for one of my old cases, the Vargas one, do you know it?" Tino's eyes widened in recognition and a little colour drained from his face. It was unlikely that the man wouldn't have heard of the case, it had been quite famous a few years back but his reaction still made Arthur cautious and his next words were dealt with the care of placing a winning deck of cards onto the game table. "I have reason to believe he is at large in this town and has been for some time. I recently required a lead-"

"What was this lead?"

Arthur stumbled after being cut off. "A reputable source. I found out the habits of the family, their home address, a local church and I set up a watch to perceive if anything was going on that might suggest-"

"Wait a second, Inspector." Tino held up his hand for him to pause. His usually cheerful face had set in a dark expression. "Are you trying to tell me that you have been watching this man's house without going through the proper formalities? He may be a wanted criminal, but you need proof before you can so that sort of thing, Arthur. No court will put him down without proof."

"I-"

"Where is your proof?" He demanded, suddenly harsh. Arthur could feel his composure break a little; he had proof, but none that was viable. He had the image of a family, murdered at their dinner table with flies feasting on their meal and laying their young in the bodies of the children. He had the image of a woman hanging from her ceiling fan, her hands tied behind her back letting the police know she couldn't have done it to herself but leaving them no clues as to who had committed the crime. And then there was Rhys, his own brother, his twin lying dead in his house with the bullet wound through his head and his white sheets stained a glorious red like a poppy. If he could take the images from his mind and develop them into pictures he would, it would show any jury what sort of a man Roma Vargas was and would give him a one way ticket to hell, never mind a prison cell.

But he knew like any police officer that thoughts were not enough. He needed cold hard evidence to nail to Roma's body before he kicked it hard in the direction of the courtroom. And on that score he was severely lacking.

Tino seemed to take pity on him in his silence and pushed the tea in his direction. He took it gratefully and sipped it avoiding the inward cringe as he tasted the liquid, too bland and tasteless to be called a proper drink. What he would do, he thought, for a good strong brew of English tea.

"From what I read up on the case your leads went soft about six months in." The Commissioner commented thoughtfully as he drank. One of his pale eyebrows was raised but his mouth was no longer stern, just sad. Arthur was surprised by the amount of knowledge he had on the case. "Listen, Arthur, I understand how much you want to catch this guy but as the Commissioner I cannot allow you to carry on unless you have some concrete leads for me. It would be unorthodox and against my position."

"I have sources," Arthur argued trying not to feel like a perpetuate child as he pouted. "Good sources too."

Tino leaned back in his seat and massaged his hand with his face. It looked like the argument was wearing him out, or maybe it was just keeping a sincere face all the time that he found so tiring. He looked drained; it must have been hard trying to keep all the police force in check and for someone so young it must have been especially draining. Arthur quickly took advantage of that, hurrying in with his last resort. Pleading.

"Please, Tino you have to understand." He said, leaning forward slightly in his seat and pressing his palms onto the table as if it was some sacred alter her was praying too. "This is the first time I have had solid evidence, something that could possibly trap this man and put him behind bars. I know where he lives and one day he _is_ going to slip up. I won't lie to you and say I have information by the bucket load but this is giving me the chance to find some. Please,_ Sir_, let me continue with this."

Indecision clouded the younger man's features for a long, agonising moment before he let out a breath and looked Arthur dead in the eyes with defeat. "I see how important this is to you and I also see the need for this man to be caught. You can continue, but only on the condition you find someone else to fill your post as the prohibition officer, we can't leave a station unmanned."

Arthur nodded eagerly, thinking darkly of his brother and the useless heap he had been all morning. He would be perfect for the most boring job in the world, he has said he wanted to help after all, why not help by manning his old position? It would be perfect revenge for his lack of support.

"Good. I am glad you understand inspector." Tino stood and offered him his hand again which he hurried to take. There was something in the Commissioner's expression that if he had time he would have pondered further, but before he could the man himself cut across him with a smile that seemed forced and strained. "Catch him won't you?"

"I will do my best." He promised. Sensing the conversation was over he turned to leave he was struck by the feeling of triumph being overtaken by confusion at the intensity that the Commissioner had shown on the Vargas case. It was not normal for any officer to show so much interest in a case that they weren't personally involved with, or dealing with and as far as he knew Tino had no connection to the case. It was odd and he couldn't put his finger on it but as he left the room he realised that he had received no punishment at all, even though he deserved it. Instead he was able to carry on his case. His sense of celebration was distorted, Arthur did not know what to feel and had come away more confused that he had been in a while.

Behind him the tea, barely touched, sat cooling on the desk.

oOo

"It was bound to happen one of these days." Yao sighed as he turned his face, plastered with a forlorn expression, in Kiku's direction. "You dealt with the whole experience pretty well, Ivan is not the sort of man you cross and live to tell the tale. You deserve congratulations."

Kiku thought he deserved nothing. He had failed in his task and shamed himself. He had not been able to complete the job that had been set to him and as a result, Yao had lost his business with the Russians, perhaps forever. He knew he shouldn't have been so straight forward with Ivan Braginski; he was only a man, not a demon his mind had made him out to be. With enough persuasion he could have perhaps been convinced to change his mind and accept the offer, but he hadn't given him the chance and now they were left with an illegal shipment of alcohol that needed to leave their hands. Their biggest buyer had refused; what on earth were they meant to do now? It was all his fault and his stomach burned in shame.

Yao had seemed relatively calm when he had told him of his failure, he looked for all purposes nonchalant but in his brown eyes Kiku could see worry burrowing into their depths. Worry he had placed there. He was ill; he didn't need the stress, why hadn't he persuaded Ivan? Why hadn't he been able to seal the deal? He felt useless.

He had decided to visit Yao the day after the event rather than the day itself, as by the time he had got back from the visit and completed other jobs around the warehouse it was an unsociably late hour and he doubted Yao would wish for his company and dark words which would lay on him as he slept like a weight. The morning was not a good time either, he had no idea how Yao's illness effected him during the early hours so he had opted instead to see him at dinner time. Kiku didn't want to admit that in reality he had to pluck up the courage to see the man before him and it had taken that long, it was easier to believe his own lie.

He had chosen the time wisely, entering the room to find Yao up and seated one of the small couches that were situated in the area in front of his bed, playing Xiangqi with Feliks of all people. It was a form of Chinese chess, little checkers representing the two sides painted in black and red symbols on a crossed board. Yao was winning. The nurse was biting his perfectly groomed nails in agitation as he stared at the board, most likely a little unsure how to approach the game that was so very similar to chess but not the same. Kiku too was mystified by the symbols and doubted he would be able to play either.

"We shall have to sell the shipment to another man instead; I just hope he is willing." Yao sighed and made a move to get up from his seat. Kiku watched him as he struggled to gain leverage on his frail arms for and the look of pain that littered his features at the movement. Noticing him watching he quickly covered up his mistake with a smile that was only slightly frayed at the edges. "Could you perhaps get me my address book, Kiku? It's right there on the desk."

He pointed with a shaking hand in the direction of the ornate table by the window. Resisting the urge to purse his lips together in annoyance, he bowed and did as the older man bid, pausing only to look out onto the clear day on the harbour through the window. Through the thin glass he could hear the muffled shouts of the people working and was struck by the contrast to the silence of the room, marred only by the occasional click of a piece moving across the game board. He realised how stifling it was and was tempted to throw open the window to let in some air but he didn't. Swiftly, he returned to Yao's side with the address book which he took and began to flick through in search of a name.

Yao caught sight of Kiku's face and paused in his searching to give over the tip of the book with dark, searching eyes. "Is something wrong? I've never seen your face look so severe, boy."

Stood with his hands behind his back, Kiku was glad that he could not see the convulsion of his hands that the words caused. He wanted to scream all that was on his mind; his failure, Yao's lack of concern over his business, the absence of punishment. After all he deserved something didn't he? Why wasn't Yao yelling at him? He didn't care if he screamed or cried, just seeing his face and the way he just looked worn made him feel sick with himself. He wanted, no he needed to be yelled at.

With a jolt of realisation he suddenly recalled that he was not at home and that things did not quite work in the same way. Yao was not his father who would punish him for misconduct with sharp words; he was his kindly boss who was not well. This was the older man's business and he knew how it ran, if he was not fazed by the lack of income then neither should he be. It was obviously not such a huge problem to never be solved again. It was insolent that he should assume he knew better than his elders in matters that he was new to.

"There is no problem." He assured him, nodding his head slightly. The sickening feeling of self loathing did not leave him but it was quelled slightly. "I was just wondering who would buy such a shipment."

Yao sighed as he continued searching for the specific name in the thin book. "Unfortunately this city is full of bad men, Kiku. There are many people who would buy such a shipment, but only two who could possible afford it. Seeing as Mr. Braginski has refused we have no option but to use our second option."

Triumph filled his face and with a flourish he flipped the book daintily in his direction. Kiku took it and read the name before him with little comprehension, it was only a name in a book and it meant nothing to him. The address beside it was a place on the other side of the city to the Braginski residence, deep in a residential area rather than the converted business apartment the Russian man owned.

"Vargas?" He read the name out in query. Yao nodded solemnly.

"Roma Vargas runs an outfit of extremely diligent men. He has been running this city for at least fifteen years, protection brackets and petty crimes but has recently taken an interest in the alcohol industry for obvious reasons." He explained. Kiku had no picture to go on but in his mind's eye he created a portrait of a man, similar in looks to Ivan, with the same cruel smirk and soft words laced with poison and malice. It was a good thing that these two men lived far apart but even then sharing a city would probably be very difficult.

"Ivan and Roma do not get on." Yao continued, confirming his unsaid suspicions. He settled back in his seat looking worn down, his eyes fixed on Feliks who was struggling with his move and paying no attention to the conversation. "There has been talk of a war on the streets. I hope it does not come to that; it would make business very unpleasant, especially with Ivan being so stubborn. He is our main input but his refusal leaves us no choice but to go with Vargas..."

He trailed off, his eyes fixed on the board before him as though he was trying to see into the future. Kiku was struck by his tone, he did not seem enthusiastic to deal with this man and it made him wonder what could possibly make this Vargas character so repulsive that Yao would actually want to deal with the creature that was Ivan Braginski instead.

"You don't like this man?" He asked, letting his curiosity for once get the better of him. Yao shrugged, the roll of his thin shoulder a twitch of limbs under a bath robe that once fitted so well but was now loose around his frame.

"I am not fond of him." He admitted warily, the words heavy. "He built his empire up from blood money. I have heard many unsavoury things about his character and his escapades from when he was a younger man, some things I hope for the sake of his grandchildren are not true."

He glanced up at him and painted a wary smile on his face that Kiku assumed was meant to be encouraging. "His eldest is going to take over soon, I advise you to try to gain an audience with him if you can. He may be more welcoming than his old man and less trigger happy at the sight of a stranger in his home."

oOo

**Be a love and drop a British lass a review, eh? Not feeling well and it'll make my day :)**

**Lovino and Antonio are back next chapter, sorry if people were looking for them in this one but I needed to introduce Finland and Sweden :) and it would have been too long with their bit and that would have meant an even longer wait :P**

**Thanks for reading :)**


	20. A Helping Hand

**This is the longest chapter yet and offically one third of the way through. Yep, there will be 60 chapters, plus a few maybe but I'll see how we go. This is a big day for me! :D *party***

**Thank you for all the reviews for last chapter and for your continued support, it means a lot. Love you all. Serious guys.**

**I WILL BE DOING A 150TH REVIEWER ONE SHOT PRIZE. For some reason I forgot to remind you all last time :I I r a fool. **

**Anyway, on with the chapter. Hetalia is not mine~**

oOo

Lovino slouched haphazardly across the red sofa in the sitting room, one foot dangling over the edge of the streamlined armrest. He stared up at the ceiling without really seeing it as he played his violin softly, the sound filling out the room with its peaceful chords.

The room was a large one, placed next to the dining room with an adjoining door between it, usually kept locked. The walls were a striped pale blue and cream and the floors were a shiny pale wood which caught the gleam of light streaming in through the large windows. It was a beautiful day once again but he did not quite feel like venturing outwards, merely sparing the sunlight a glance as he got ready for the day that morning.

He was not in the best of moods, he felt restless at the thought of the oncoming party the next day and what was expected of him at the event. He did not like the idea that the day was set aside for him alone and was almost thankful for once that his brother would distract most of the attention onto himself. He had been fitted into his costume before breakfast which he had hated with a passion, and completed his work afterwards robotically and without really thinking about what he was doing. By the time he had done it was almost time for Feliciano to be back from school but the hours he had to spare were draining and the silence was once again getting to his nerves. It was not helping that Antonio had for the most part of the day been busy getting fitted himself for his own suits, and had yet to return. The only time he had seen him had been that morning, where he had been silent and distant. Yelling at him must have done the job at getting him to quieten down but Lovino now found him missing the idiot's voice.

So he had done the only thing he could think of to ward off the headaches and silence: play his violin. He had escaped the confines of his room and gone into the sitting room, hating the way that the room smelt cold and unused as soon as he stepped in, the floorboards beneath him harsh on his bare feet. Lovino had briefly considered going into another room but he knew his bedroom would be too constricted, the music room too close to his Grandpa who was busy with business. The kitchen and the dining room were being used to prepare for the next day and he did not want to get in Roderich or Elizabeta's way or be reminded of the dreaded party, so he had flopped down on the seat to wait for his brother's return.

It did not take as long as he thought. The sun bad barely moved in its path across the sky before the front door opened. There was the sound of voices and Feliciano skipped in, drawn in by the music and dragging a weary looking Ludwig behind him. He had stopped at the sight of him to stare.

"Lovi, you're playing your violin!" He had seemed shocked at the sight, his eyes wide and disbelieving. It was not surprising, he did not play often for pleasure. But then his face broke into a wide trademark smile. "I'll bring my painting down here and sit with you!"

He had barely time to complain before he hurried off in the direction of the bedrooms. Ludwig pursed his lips and looked as if he was trying not to explode as he followed him and Lovino could not help but chuckle. He might not like the guy much but he had to admit it was funny to watch him try to manage his hyperactive little brother and keep a straight face. He was the only guy he had met patient enough to deal with him, he'd give him that well deserved morsel of credit.

Feliciano returned and straight away began adding paints to a palate. The chemical smell of the bright pastes was almost comforting to Lovino and reminded him of their childhood and when life had been more simple and easy. There was no stupid parties or responsibility. He plucked a few cords half heartedly and resumed his staring at the ceiling as he listened more closely to the chat between his brother and his bodyguard.

"No, no Ludwig stay there, in the light." Feliciano ordered with a chuckle. Lovino turned his head slightly to see his brother pull out his equipment from his box that was splattered with years of paint and ink. It reminded Lovino of a workman's toolbox. The younger boy loved that thing as a child and had carried it everywhere, crying when he'd had to leave it in his room for meal times. The blond huffed and shifted his position back into the beam of light that hit the red armchair the younger man had sat him in.

"Here, Mr Vargas?" He grunted. He looked distressed at the request, sat in the seat he kept the stance of some sort of lord, with his back ruler straight and his gaze even, only the turn of his mouth showed his displeasure.

"Yes, yes that's perfect!" Came the response. Feliciano squinted at his easel, a pencil in hand ready to mar the white surface of the canvas with its deadly strokes.

"What are you doing _fratello_?" Lovino queried, trying not to sound too curious. His little brother turned to face him with a beaming face that caught the light and made his eyes dazzle.

"I'm going to paint Ludwig! I promised I would, and he was so excited." The look on the blond's face said otherwise but he charged on regardless. Lovino rolled his eyes and turned his gaze back up to the ceiling while his brother rattled on. "One day you will have to let me paint you Lovi! It'll be so much fun, not that painting you won't be, Ludwig! Ah please smile more, you're always so severe I- Antonio!"

His joyous exclamation lifted the room and made Lovino's head snap to the door where sure enough the Spaniard was stood looking in, checking for Lovino's presence with searching eyes. When he caught sight of him lounging on the sofa he smiled and made his way into the room, where he was immediately accosted by Feliciano waving a paintbrush dangerously.

"'Toni, where have you been? Have you been for your suit fitting?" Lovino faintly wondered how his brother breathed through all the words that jumbled out of his mouth. "Is it nice? Does it look good? I haven't tried mine yet, I was just going to paint Ludwig. Would you like me to paint you one day too? You have a beautiful smile-"

Something in Lovino snapped. It was as though his brother's words had been flicking against his heart not unlike how he was plucking the chords of the violin. He slapped it down on the seat next to him with too much force so that it made a painful grinding sound that attracted everyone's attention.

"Feli, leave the man alone." He snarled feeling his anger rise red in his face. He flipped onto his back and flung his hand over his face so that he didn't have to look at them and they could not see the redness of his cheeks. "I have a headache coming on and I could do with some silence please."

The lie worked better than he thought, through the crack in his fingers he saw his brother's eyes widening in apology as he returned dejectedly to his work, chatting to Ludwig in a much lower tone so that he could hardly hear the words. Lovino felt a twinge of guilt at the sight and regretted taking his frustration out on his brother, he knew he should not let his irritation get to him or come out in an outburst. It was not the sign of a leader, and he chided himself internally because he should be able to keep a steady strain of thought and not mess things up with emotions as he normally did.

Antonio, freed from his brother's clutches, walked dutifully over to the sofa to stand silently by his side. Their argument had placed an invisible barrier between the two of them that was poignant and deadly in the air. Lovino had thought he would prefer it, and part of himself kept telling him he did, but he could not lie to himself either; the cold front of ice was horrible. He wanted the bubbly and annoying Antonio back. He stared up at the tall figure through the cracks in his fingers, an apology forming in his mouth before he even realised its existence.

"I'm sorry."

Antonio flinched and looked down at him. He could tell he was trying to keep his face straight and professional but he ruined it a little by raising his eyebrows in disbelief. "Pardon?"

"I said I'm sorry, damn it." He snapped, his tone rising dangerously before he lowered it again. Feliciano did not need to hear his pathetic excuse for an apology. "For yelling at you. It was uncalled for."

The Spaniard's lips twitched in a small smile and the hard lines of his face smoothed out. The sight made a weight he had barely noticed lift from Lovino's chest.

"There is nothing to be sorry for."

Lovino snorted as if he didn't care and turned so that he was facing the back of the settee, curling his legs up slightly so that the bodyguard could sit down. He did not tell him too but the message was taken and Antonio seated himself beside him, grinning widely like a puppy getting a treat. The idiot was happy again though and it pleased him to see him like that rather than glum. If they were going to be together for a long time, he dreaded to think how long, then he could not put up with someone like Viktor or Ludwig. He needed someone to help him forget what it was he was doing and as long as he was always oblivious and cheerful he would do that. Feliciano had been that place before but now he was growing up, granted he was still a bit of a big kid but how long could that last now? Antonio would have to take that position now.

His thoughts inevitably trailed back onto the party with unease and he shuffled his position on the sofa to one that he could doze more comfortably in. The day was meant to be his but the thought of stepping before all those people made him anxious, not because he was afraid of crowds, he usually faded into the background anyway. It was because of what people would think. He had seen the look on Scipio's face when he had been at church. The memory made him feel rotten inside. The look of pure disgust was hard to rid himself of, he knew all too well that the people his Grandfather would be inviting would be probably people that 'worked' for him in some way. The term was loose and meant very little; worked could mean they literally went on jobs for him or that he owned them. It was these people he feared the most, men and women who were not part of the empire but drawn into it. He was afraid he would sympathise with them. He was afraid they would judge him when he himself was in a similar position to them.

He must have fallen into a light slumber because the next thing he knew there was a great knock on the main door of the apartment from a person demanding entry. Lovino jumped and looked up at the noise, bleary eyed and confused.

"What's that?" He grumbled to the room in general. Feliciano was still painting Ludwig and had got a good way into the portrait, he must have been out for a while. Antonio shrugged.

"I think it was the front door." He said simply. Lovino looked at him and realised with horror that his feet were resting on something and it was not a footrest, in his sleep he had stretched out and put his feet up on the Spaniard's knees without realising. What a freak? Why hadn't he moved them? He snatched them back and sat up suddenly, his face heating up in embarrassment but Antonio didn't seem to notice. His gaze was fixed on the door and his ears perked at the sound of Roderich greeting someone behind it. He opened his mouth to swear at him for letting him shame himself like that but was silenced by approaching footsteps as Roderich stepped through the door bringing a stranger with him.

He had pale skin and incredibly dark hair that covered his head like a tailored cap. His eyes were even darker colour, like ink, and took in the room with one sweeping gaze that seemed to calculate all that sat in it. Lovino felt like he was being analysed in some way by the boy and he didn't like it, instinctively drawing up his feet to his chest. Beside him, Antonio stood up on guard with his eyes narrowed in the stranger's direction. Roderich seemed more irritable than usual and had his lips pursed disdainfully.

"Sirs," He nodded respectfully noting that both brothers were in the room but his gave soon fixed on Lovino with intensity. "This man is here to see your Grandfather, Master Lovino, but he asked to be taken to see you first."

"Me?" He repeated feeling confused. _What would anyone want with me?_

Antonio manoeuvred so that he was in an ideal position between him and the other boy but he needn't have bothered. Feliciano quickly stepped in and eased the tension in his usual way, by being an idiot.

"You have a guest, Lovi!" He sang, putting down his art materials and rushing to the small, dark haired boy with unmeasured glee while Ludwig watched on hopelessly, trying to get to his feet quick enough to stop him. He wasn't quick enough and Feli had already managed to shake the boy's hand before he had even stood up. Lovino was happy to see the stranger look a little put off by his enthusiasm. "It's so nice to see you. I'm Feliciano, Lovi's younger brother. What is your name?"

"Apologies." The boy muttered in an unusually soft and measured voice. He bowed slightly from the waist in a formal manner. "My name is Kiku Honda. It is an honour to meet you. I have come to offer a deal between the Wang Organisation and your own and I beg you to hear out my offer, if it would not disrupt your afternoon."

Lovino's heart dropped to his shoes and all forms of response left him. He was not even officially part of the family yet and he was already being asked to do business? The sane part of his mind told him roughly that it was only a deal, nothing serious but the other part started to panic a little and his hands shook slightly.

"Lovi?" Antonio asked, looking concerned as he struggled to find words. Roderich slid out seeing he was no longer needed. Feliciano watched him struggle with wide eyes and a curious expression on his face before he turned around brightly to face the other boy with one of his winning smiles.

"I don't think my _fratello_ is feeling well today, perhaps you could talk to me instead?" He said with ease. It was an offhand statement but it fired a spark in his head. He could not allow his brother to be involved in this. It was his problem and he would deal with it. The reminder was all it took for him to get a grip and sit up straighter with his game-face on ready for whatever this guy could throw at him.

"No Feli, it's fine." He motioned for the Kiku to come closer with one hand and he moved his feet to the floor. "I'll talk to him now, it is no problem."

Feliciano looked worried, and for a second he thought he would argue but then he nodded and returned to his painting, crying out that Ludwig had moved and sending his blushing bodyguard back to his position. Antonio moved aside for the man to pass, Kiku looking incredibly small next to his bulky frame, he allowed the man to sit down but only after he had glared in warning at him. Lovino found the whole experience embarrassing and scowled at the bodyguard before turning to the task at hand.

"What is it that you want?" He asked, trying to keep as polite as possible but still guarded. It was odd that someone would go directly to see his when he wasn't even in charge, what impact he could have on this he did not see but it did not hurt to be civil with a client.

"My boss has a very _delicate_ shipment he wishes to be rid of." He said. His voice was oddly even and his back incredibly straight for someone his age, he could be no older than Feliciano. "It was a bulk order and it is my belief it would be perfect for a large establishment, one that I am told your grandfather owns."

Lovino was seeing less and less what this had to do with him. He was very aware of Antonio's intimidating figure at his shoulder and the way that Feliciano seemed to be listening in to their conversation, making is brush strokes smoother and less noisy than before. Or maybe he was just being paranoid.

"Now, seeing as we wish to get it off of our hands we are willing to sell it for a cheap price." Kiku sounded eager. "It would be more use to your grandfather than us. I hope you will consider the implications of the deal and perhaps put in a good word with your Grandfather for us."

Now he saw what he was needed for, he was to present him with the idea and save this other man of getting in the firing line by using himself as a shield. Instant dislike swelled in his stomach but he reluctantly did as the man asked. He knew from dealing with the book keeping that they were well into the black books so had the money to spare, but did they _need_ it? Surely the shipment they had received the other day would suffice for a while, on a small establishment.

"How much are we talking here?" He asked. Kiku's eyes flashed as he considered the figures.

"It is a good sized shipment in these difficult times. Approximately fifty gallons of alcohol, give or take." Kiku said decisively. "More than enough to run an establishment on for a many days."

It was, it was a good sized shipment for one of the clubs and speakeasys he knew his Grandfather owned. He wasn't sure of the exact amount but he knew there was a good number of places he owned that sold the illegal drinks to the public. It would be a good investment to buy into, that way they did not have to split up what they already had and could give each place more. More booze, more money right? It all fit together in his head pretty neatly. And it would make his Grandpa pleased he was taking an interest for once.

As if the thoughts of the man summoned him, there was suddenly a very familiar booming voice on the staircase as his Grandfather emerged from his office. There was a mumbled reply from other people, most likely something to do with the party the next day as he had been busy in his office all morning sorting last minute preparations out.

"Wait here," Lovino ordered, grabbing the bull by the horns and deciding he would talk to the older man. What harm could it possibly do to ask? "Feliciano will you entertain Mr Honda here for a few minutes while I have a word with _Nonno_?"

Kiku's eyes blazed with thanks in his direction as Lovino stood up and made his way to the door, Antonio a breaths distance behind him. His brother was already chatting away to the other boy and he knew he would be leaving him in capable hands, he was a natural host and much more welcoming than he ever could be. They were already talking about art. He might have laughed if it were another kind of situation.

The entrance hall was empty when he stepped out but his Grandfather soon came into view on the staircase, two pretty women with him, one on each arm. Viktor ghosted behind him like a silent shadow. The other three were in rapt conversation but stopped at the sight of him.

"Lovino, is something wrong?" Roma hurried towards him. He had dressed up for the visitors, wearing one of his favourite velvet suits of a rich burgundy that went well with his warm complexion.

"No, everything is fine." He assured him as Roma reached him, planting two kisses on his grandson's cheeks before smiling at his affirmation and turning back to the waiting women, who had been looking curiously over his shoulder, with a charming grin.

"Ladies, might I introduce my grandson? Lovino, this is Racquel and Alisha." The women were very beautiful and dressed up in modern fashionable clothes, although their hair was quite long for the times. The blond girl reached no taller than Roma's elbow but seemed to be the most forward of the two and scrutinised Lovino through large wire glasses that perched on the edge of her nose. She didn't seem impressed with what she saw. The other girl was of a darker complexion and had her hair in pigtails under a cloche hat. She stared openly at him but pleasantly.

"Racquel is managing tomorrow's entertainment," he said eagerly, wrapping his arm around his slim frame and leading his closer. The blond mentioned barely flinched at his address and instead reached into her handbag, drawing out a long cigarette and holder which she lit while he spoke. "The music and such, I thought a band would be a nice idea. Then we can have dancing. Alisha here is going to be helping with the service with a few people from her restaurant, aren't you dear?"

"Oh, yes Mr Vargas." She beamed, her brown eyes wide and innocent. "It is going to be a great honour to help you and repay you for all the help you gave me when my father was sick."

Roma chuckled lightly and waved his hand to brush away her thanks. "Think nothing of it. I was merely doing what any good citizen would by helping you manage the place."

Lovino highly doubted that his Grandfather would ever do anything so selfless without personal gain, he was not the sort of man to think far away from the family. Racquel seemed to be on the same lines as him as her eyes were narrowed in the other woman's direction as if considering her stupidity as she sucked greedily at the cigarette between her fingers.

"Erm, actually Grandpa there was something I wanted to talk to you about," he said tentatively. The arms around him tightened briefly and then relaxed as the older man smiled patiently.

"Girls, will you go and discuss the details for tomorrow with my staff?" He asked, loosening his hold to take their hands one by one and press them to his mouth in a kiss. Alisha giggled. "They should be in the kitchen right now, it's over there."

Racquel followed the finger pointing in the direction of the room and nodded, taking the other girl with her they sauntered off. Only the darker girl waved goodbye and Lovino found himself blushing as he returned the gesture, feeling a little off put when Antonio coughed behind him to hold back a snigger.

Roma turned back to him as soon as the women had disappeared out of sight, his gaze heavy. He lifted a hand and played with his hair distractedly as he spoke, running his fingers through the fine hairs and lifting the strands like a summer breeze. "What is this about Lovi?"

"A man asked to see me," he explained quickly. "He said he wanted to discuss business with me, before he went to you."

"And did you?"

"_S__ì_, he's with Feli and Ludwig now." He pointed to the sitting room door which was slightly ajar and let the sound of chatter ring out into the hallway. His Grandfather did not look but kept his eyes firmly fixed onto his features in rapt attention. "He said he was from the Wang Organisation and they had a shipment to sell to us."

A look of confusion flickered across his features. "Wang, really?"

He nodded. "They've sent a young man. He's offering us about fifty gallons of imported alcohol Grandpa, enough so that we could bump together this lot and the other we got to make a bigger amount. That way we could distribute more to all the institutions instead of just one." He faltered as he finished his suggestion.

Roma froze in his hair stroking and looked to be considering the proposition. Lovino's heart beat widely in his chest as he worried that his Grandpa would get mad. He might be seen as interfering in the business well before his time perhaps. The older man had never had someone else to tell him what to do and he looked to be struggling on how to take it.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Roderich leave the confines of the kitchen, look briefly in their direction and hurry down into the basement. Viktor too watched him go with narrowed eyes,

probably mad that he was slacking off from his work or something. Antonio was very quiet next to him.

Roma's face cracked into a sudden, large grin and he leant forward to kiss Lovino on the head with enthusiasm. "_Molto bene_, Lovi! I will see this man and talk numbers. I am pleased you are finally getting interested with this, I am very proud of you. You'll become a fine businessman yet!"

"_Grazie_." He mumbled, feeling embarrassed at the show of affection he blushed and looked down as Roma continued to rub his hair fondly like a favourite dog. Eventually with one final kiss he broke away.

"I'll see him now." Roma said decisively and headed straight to the sitting room, leaving Antonio and Lovino alone as Viktor followed Roma. There was a gaping silence after he had gone where the only sound was that of Lovino's own heavy breathing as though he had been running a marathon rather than talking business. His heart beat in his chest as he watched the retreating figure of his Grandfather a strange feeling of anxiety spreading across his chest.

He chose to ignore it and follow his Grandpa into the sitting room.

oOo

Roderich took advantage of the household's preoccupation to creep down into the basement. The underground rooms were dingy in comparison the rest of the house, bare concrete walls lined the hallway that lead to the boiler room lit by a single bare bulb. On his immediate right was Heracles' bedroom, which he barely spent any time, preferring instead to sit outside in the garden with the neighbourhood cats. Beside that was the storage cupboard for the linen and extra tableware. Elizabeta's and his own room was on the left and the boiler room dead ahead. There was no need for heating in the lower rooms as the boiler and the exposed pipes kept them unusually warm all year round. He could remember as a child hating living in the small, cramped room with his father because he had loathed the rattle the old thing made against his bedroom walls. These days he found it almost comforting.

Without hesitation he opened the door leading to his bedroom. Elizabeta had tried to make the place homely but there was only so much you could do when the walls were concrete and bare. She had been saving up for wallpaper to put up, but with the news of the baby she had started putting away the few spare coins for it instead. They made do with a simple double bed, covered with a hand-me-down patchwork quilt from her mother and a carpet that had once covered Roderich's father's room. It was stained slightly from all the times the old man had entered the room without wiping his feet, dark scuffed marks forever marking its surface. Small ornaments littered the rest of the room, their bright colours only serving to emphasise the way the room was so dreary and dull.

As a butler Roderich had seen the rest of the house and knew all too well the lavish lifestyle that the Vargas family lived. Silently he seethed that the bodyguards were allowed the special privilege of housing in the lavish upstairs rooms while he and his wife suffocated in the heat of the boiler, surrounded by inherited odds and ends and trapped in grey walls. He was no better than a pet dog, yet even a pet would be allowed to sleep by his master. Instead he slept under the floorboards like nothing more than a rat.

Roderich walked purposefully into the room, making sure the door was locked behind him as he did so. The deep unsettled anger he had harboured from childhood directed itself inwards, shame and self loathing burned his throat as his lack of power in his home. He knew sometimes when he looked at the Vargas boys he should hate them, but he couldn't, they were innocent to their grandfather's evil. Even now they were coming more of age and getting involved, he pitied them more than anything. And this pity made him feel weak. He should hate them both, but he couldn't. It was the one thing that had held him back all these years, that and the fear of what would happen if he was discovered. Elizabeta, his beautiful Lizzie, her pregnancy had changed things; he could no longer care for children that weren't his own, he should look after what he had.

The phone was the only object in the room that was new. Mr Vargas had had a line fitted into both their room and Heracles' so that he could summon them whenever he liked to do his bidding, but they could also call out on his request. It was easier than calling from the stairwell where sometimes people could walk in and hear a delicate conversation. It made Roderich squirm to remember how many times he had called suspicious characters up to convey a message, after all sometimes the boss' voice was worth its weight in gold and it was much easier to use a servant in most cases. As his hand grasped the cool metal he felt a surge of irony in that the phone installed to help Roma could possibly bring down his empire to its knees.

Roderich had memorised the number on the card and then burnt it in the oven while helping Elizabeta make the morning tea. The numbers came forth from his memory with ease and he typed them out onto the dial quickly, the rattle of the dial so very loud in the silence of the room. It rang twice and then was answered.

"Hold it," The familiar voice demanded before he could open his mouth. There was the murmur of voices and then a faint click, and he realised he was being recorded. "Go on, what is it?"

"There's going to be a party, tomorrow night." He was unsure how he was meant to approach the police with the details but he reasoned they would want him to go straight to the juicy stuff. "Roma has it planned so that Lovino will get to meet all of his _business partners._ He's inviting work friends and people he's got under his thumb, to show them who they'll have listen to next."

"Any deals taking place?" Vash demanded on the other end.

Roderich shook his head, even though he knew he could not see the movement. "Not that I know of, although a boy came about a shipment today. He said he's from the Wang Organisation, might be an alias but you never know."

Vash repeated the name and there was a rustling sound as someone wrote it down. Roderich's heart beat in his chest widely as the seconds ticked down. He wondered if his presence was missed yet.

"And this shipment? Did you hear what it was about?"

"I only heard a mention of gallons. The boy spoke to Master Vargas first-"

"Why would he speak to the boy?" He heard someone mutter in the background and faintly wondered how many people he was heard by. He felt fine with Vash, he was a little gruff but he knew him, but he did not know the other man and it made him hesitate a little before answering.

"I can only assume the group he is with Wang and has previous dealings with Roma," He replied thoughtfully. He heard a pounding noise and thinking it was footsteps stopped short, but it was only an air bubble rattling inside the boiler next door. Roderich released a heavy breath. "They probably assumed that Lovino would be easier to talk to. They were right, Lovino and Roma were discussing the books only a moment ago. They're using him to seal a deal."

He heard a small victorious cheer. "Proof he's dealing, this is gold!"

"Back to the party," Vash said, his voice close to his ear and making his frayed nerves snap. He jumped. "Could you get us in?"

"Not a chance in hell." Roderich scoffed, running his hand through his hair. _Were they mad or something?_ "The guest list is set in stone, I couldn't get you in even if you were invisible. There's going to be men at every entrance not to mention the Vargas family bodyguards. But I can be your eyes for the night."

Vash hummed in response. "That's the best we can hope for I suppose. Report back as soon as you can." The recorder clicked off but Vash remained on the line. "And Roderich, keep an eye out for yourself."

There was the sound of shoes against concrete and this time he could not mistake the patter of feet coming to expose his hiding place. His palms were sweaty and he fumbled to put down the receiver.

"I'll try." He breathed into it before dropping it down with a small, fumbling clatter. The handle on the door shook as someone tried to get in, with a quick adjustment of his hair and his glasses Roderich moved to open the door. He could only pray that he did not look as flushed as he felt.

He half expected it to be Roma himself at the door, using his powerful thoughts to detect him out. But it wasn't. He almost passed out when pretty green eyes met his own, and a confused pout on large lips.

"Roderich!" Elizabeta scolded, her skirt bottoms bustling indignantly as she stepped forwards. "Why did you have the door locked?"

She didn't seem to notice the false nature of his smile and the way his eyes darted to the shadows behind her as if expecting demons to pop out of them.

Flushed, he answered."I was calling the florists for the centrepieces the master wanted on the tables. Thought I'd save you a job," he lied. She raised one eyebrow at his thoughtfulness, but then looked suddenly worried.

"You did tell them a time, right?" She asked doubtfully. He made a mock show of looking upset, smacking himself briefly on the side of the head in dismay.

"Ah no," he cried. "I'm sorry darling. I'll ring them back right now." _Or__ actually call them to begin with_. Elizabeta looked more closely at him, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in his worried features. His hands shook and he felt a bead of sweat slide from his hairline and snake down his back. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.

But then her features cleared and she smiled patiently, reaching up on tiptoe to plant a chaste kiss on his lips, one hand on the side of his face.

"You're overworking yourself." She said decisively, leaving her fingers closed around his cheek. In the dim light of the corridor she looked incredibly beautiful. He would have forsaken even God for her. "Call the florists and then come upstairs, yeah? Master Vargas is seeing the young man that has come to visit and the boys are in the sitting room. The ladies have gone too, it's quiet now. You can relax."

He doubted he would ever be able to relax again but he smiled and touched his hand on her warm one that still rested on his face.

"Yes darling, whatever you say."

oOo

The sound of the crash ripped though the air, taking with it the oxygen and leaving him with it only the sound of the screams. It was so sudden that he was thrown forward and into the mountain of ash that was flung up in the explosion. Smoke clouded the air and Lovino was choked by its heaviness, blinded into darkness. He cried out in fear, in pain and confusion. He struggled to be free of the bond of the fog that kept him immobile and frozen, squeezing him tightly and tightening his already clogged throat.

There was sudden silence and he struggled harder. He was aware of people, somewhere out in the mists that moved forward. They only made motions to touch him, not to help him. Their caresses lingered on his skin and through his hair, igniting his skin like matches to paper. With each burn he flinched and cried out struggling to get away but the faces remained impassive, yet familiar. It was like he had seen them somewhere before, but they moved so quickly they blurred before he could figure out their features, and then the next one moved in and attacked. He was trapped in a seated position and try as he could, he couldn't free himself to stand, or even crawl away. They were like a pack of wolves tearing at him while he struggled blindly, all their faces the same. Backwards and forwards he burned and soon it was over him, the faces forming into one; jaws so wide that when they opened he was looking into a cavern and a bottomless maw. It rained down on him, the air left and-

He shot up screaming, sweat dripping through his hair and onto his face. The blanket had wrapped itself around his body like a python and, half suffocated, he pushed it off. He panted and stared blindly into the darkness of the room, the faces retreating back into the shadows from where they came as his eyes adjusted. In the cold aftermath of his scream there was nothing but a deadly silence and the chill of the air brushed against his feverish skin. It took him a good long moment to realise where he was and what was going on but it did not stop the pounding in his heart and the shake of his hands as he rubbed them across his face, wiping the sweat drops before they got into his eyes.

There was the rushing sound of footsteps and his door crashed open and Antonio charged in, his hair askew and in a state of undress, his shirt thrown on loosely over a pair of pyjama bottoms. He held a gun aloft ready to fight whatever intruder he thought was in his room only to lower it confused at the sight of Lovino alone and shivering with cold sweat in his bed.

"Lovino?" He quizzed, squinting at him through the dimness of the room. Lovino opened his mouth to respond, to tell him to leave him alone but all that came out was a unbridled whimper and he had to bury his head into the duvet to stifle his own shaky breaths.

"Oh Lovi," Antonio padded across to sit beside him, the bed dipping slightly with his weight as he placed a calming hand onto his quivering back. The gun was placed on the bedside table and forgotten. His voice was soft. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." He managed to mumble after a moment to compose. Already he was starting to feel ashamed of the state he had allowed himself to get into and he was worried that Feliciano would come in to check on him. He must have shouted loud enough to wake the dead, and he did not need both of them here.

"Please leave." He choked out, turning away so he could not see the bodyguard's worried expression. "Get out."

"No way am I leaving you like this." Antonio argued, sounding affronted at the mere idea. He stroked his back but Lovino shrugged him off. There was a pause. "Do you want me to fetch your brother?"

He was beginning to worry where he was, usually he came running when he called out but perhaps this time he had slept through it. It did not happen often but he was unfortunately a deep sleeper and sometimes he missed him shouting. He didn't want Antonio to stay, not by a long shot, but it was starting to look like he would have to. He would never get back to sleep now after the nightmare. He needed someone to stay with him until he dropped back off or he would not sleep, and he needed sleep with the party soon approaching.

"Fine you can stay, just keep quiet." He grunted, laying back into the covers and glaring as the other man grinned in the half-light. "Don't get any ideas, you're sitting on the floor until I fall back to sleep."

The Spaniard nodded and did as he was told, removing himself from the bed and sitting on the floor beside it, like a child waiting for him to tell a story. The bed creaked as he moved and went back to its original position, making a flash of loneliness flare up briefly in his heart but he ignored it and turned over. He tried to stop shaking but his limbs didn't seem to want to respond and he quivered pitifully against his covers, feeling suddenly very small. Lovino closed his eyes, aware of the presence at his head and tried to fall back to sleep.

Almost as soon as he'd closed his eyes though there was the dreaded feeling of an iron like grasp around his throat and the ghostly memory of a haunting smile. He jumped up again blearily, not screaming this time round, but groaning slightly as he realised the dream was not going to leave him for today. Antonio did not comment on his behaviour, only standing up silently and sitting back on the bed. He did not touch him this time and Lovino hated to admit to himself that the presence was comforting in a way, the heat of another's body warding off the shadows for a little while. In the dark of the room the bodyguard's smile could easily be made out and his eyes, lacking their usual green, were fixed patiently on his face as if awaiting orders.

"Sit on the bed instead." He ordered Antonio, keeping the pleading note out of his voice. He did not need him to know that his presence was vital. He was already feeling a little better and he spared a thankful thought to his brother, who was too old to share a bed with him but did so anyway, maybe for his own benefit.

"Sure." Antonio replied and then laid down next to him, facing the other way so that his feet were by his face and tucking himself under the duvet. Lovino stared opened mouthed, blushing profusely. There was a line between sitting on a bed and sharing it with another man, it was not right. He kicked him in the side to get him to move but he might as well have kicked a wall for all the good it did.

"Ouch, not cute Lovi." Antonio chuckled. His humour bated his anger; how dare he fine this funny?

"Bastard!" He hissed, kicking him again. "What on earth do you think you are doing? I said sit, not lay down! Get your lazy ass up!"

"But I can't sit there all night." He complained in playful whine. "I'd hurt my back."

It was true, he could not ask him to sit up for the rest of the night, some untold hours, without a back support. He was a servant but he was still a person and he could not expect him to do that. He could always lean against the bed but that would be no good either, and he needed someone next to him to sleep. Lovino could feel the heavy weight of tiredness in his eyes and grumbled under his breath, "Damn it why did this have to happen to me?"

"You couldn't lend me a pillow could you?"

He growled, and seizing the pillow aimed for the other man's face, pleased when he heard a satisfying intake of breath that told him he'd hit his mark. Smirking, he flipped over and laid back down. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and his body felt tense at the strange presence of the other man on his bed. He was used to sharing with Feliciano but this was different, this was a near enough stranger. But he was solid and real and human, his warmth was enough to keep the nightmares at bay for a while. Grudgingly he would allow him to stay. Grudgingly.

Long minutes passed and Lovino found to his dismay he could not sleep. Whether it was the nightmare or the fact he had been awake too long, sleep evaded him, coming so close he could almost feel it's soft embrace but then he lost it again to the dark and silence. His shuffles and irritated sighs alerted Antonio to his restlessness.

"Can't sleep?"

"No, I'm practising for a dance- _of course_ I can't sleep." He was irritated and the sarcasm flew out before he could stop it. He was grouchy when tired. "Idiot. What are you doing still awake?"

"I'm not going to sleep until you do." He said cheerfully, oblivious to the sarcasm. Lovino instantly felt bad, he shouldn't be so rude to the guy that was sitting up with him because he was such a big pansy and had a nightmare. Jeez, it was not part of his job description he was sure of that. "Anything I can do to help? I can get off the bed if you like."

"No!" He protested, wincing at how quick he responded. Damn it he sounded like some needy girl or something. "Just talk to me, about anything. I usually drop off when I have Feli talking in my ear. You're about as inane so it might work."

"Talk to you?" Antonio chuckled and was silent, for a minute Lovino thought he wasn't going to respond. "So what was your nightmare about?"

He flinched at being made to recall the event but now her thought about it, some parts were horribly familiar. He sighed. "I was dreaming about the car crash that killed my parents," he admitted.

Antonio gasped lightly through the darkness. "You were there?"

"Feli and I were both were but I don't think he remembers," He turned a little so that he was on his back and looking up at the ceiling. He wasn't sure why he was telling Antonio this of all people, but it felt right to let him know. "We were on a family trip and the brakes failed. Some people had been close by and saw us crash. They got me and my brother out, went back to get my parents and my other little brother but then the car went up in flames."

"I'm sorry..." Antonio sounded upset that he had asked. Lovino found his throat restricted but the Spaniard quickly picked up the conversation on a lighter note. "You know, this reminds me of laying with my brother back home. We would lay for hours in the hay loft and look out of a crack in the roof tiles at the stars. We'd talk all night and my mother would find us there in the morning, sound asleep. Such a scolding we got." He let out a chuckle at the memory.

"You have a brother?" He would have never guessed. The way Antonio spoke about his past it was if he was an only child, although they had only talked about his previous jobs, never his family.

"_Sí_, my _hermano_ Thiago." He said. There was a light fondness in his voice as the subject went onto his brother. "He is two years older than me. He stayed on the farm with my parents back in Spain, he was the one set to inherit it so it did not matter as much when I left to get another job."

"Why did you leave?" Lovino could never imagine leaving his family to go and live alone. The freedom would be nice but who would be there for him when he needed them? Feliciano was his little brother and it was his job to protect him, he had to be there to do that. And his Grandpa would miss him too. It seemed pretty selfish of Antonio to leave, but he knew that he was anything but selfish so there must have been a reason behind it all.

The bodyguard shrugged, making the bed shake a little. "Because if I'd have stayed then my brother and I would have killed each other."

"What?"

The Spaniard laughed lightly at the panic in his voice but it lacked his usual enthusiasm. "You see Lovi, Spain was in political turmoil when I left. My brother and I fell on different beliefs and often clashed over them. My father was on my brother's side and told me one day that if I wanted to keep living in his house I would have to believe what they did, so I refused and left. My mother was very upset."

There was a long thoughtful pause. Lovino hardly dared to breathe.

"She is a beautiful woman my mother." He continued fondly, his voice low in the darkness. "My father's income on the farm was not enough to sustain us so she took a job in a local school teaching English. She taught my brother and I when were very young. She was a soft and gentle soul, much too good for my father."

"Do you hate him?" There was another pause as Antonio considered the question

"No, I do not hate him." He sounded shocked by his own response. "He is a man who sticks to his morals and lives a good and honest life. He is a bit brutish but that is the fault of his own father, not him. All things pass onto the sons. I inherited my mother's disposition, my brother my father's. It was natural that we would fight in the end. I do miss them sometimes."

"Do they know where you are?" Lovino was surprised at his own eagerness to hear Antonio's story. It might have had something to do with diverting the attention from his own past. It was almost like opening a book and finding another hidden inside, layer upon layer. He had always assumed that because of Antonio's patient and cheerful disposition that he was an oddball, or had a screw loose somewhere. Now Lovino saw he was wrong. Antonio had just as many troubles he did.

"The last time I sent them a letter was before getting the ship here," he admitted. He sounded guilty at his own negligence. "I had met a man and he had promised me a job, but I turned it down. I wanted to make my own way. I was going to send a letter when I was settled down but then never really got settled down. I suppose I should now."

Lovino imagined if Feliciano went away and did not get in contact for months, the worry and anxiety he would go through thinking about all the bad things that could have happened. He would wait every day for the post and keep an eye on the news just to make sure nothing serious had happened to cause the lack of correspondence. His brother was his life. To think that Antonio could have abused his own brother so badly made him annoyed and he kicked out with his feet, connecting with the bodyguards shoulder.

"What was that for?" He asked shocked. The blanket moved as he rubbed his arm.

"For being a moron." He snapped. "Your family are probably worried sick. Send them a letter tomorrow or I'll make you clean out the toilets."

It was an empty threat and they both knew it. Antonio stifled a chuckle into his hand and once again silence fell between them as they both thought of their families. Lovino felt lucky he was on such good terms with his own, sure he and Feli had argued as children like any normal kids, he was a pretty annoying person but he wouldn't trade him for the world. He loved him enough to keep him from his Grandfather's business. He would even die for him if he had to. No second thoughts or doubts about it.

Eventually Antonio carried on talking, recounting tales of farm life back in Spain. The lively parties, the excitement of the bullrings, the farm life washed out in a colourful stream and Lovino was surrounded by its warmth and friendly air. The presence of the other body in the bed kept the shadows from attacking again. And with that he soon found his head nodding and himself slipping back into a deep sleep.

oOo

**Translations:**  
><strong>molto bene: very good<strong>  
><strong>Hermano: brother<strong>

**Racquel is Monaco.**  
><strong>Alisha is Seychelles (I don't like Michelle as a name for her, sorry for confusion!)<strong>  
><strong>Thiago is Portugal and therefore Spain's brother. he won't appear in the fic but he's officially mentioned and exists in this AU universe.<strong>

**Rome, looking all dapper in his suit with his women :') I really have too much fun planning his outfits in my head. You have no idea...** **He wasn't meant to be in this chapter but he kind of 'creeped' in. I am worried for my brain...**

**I know you've all been craving the spamano, here is your fix :') The party scene will be split over the next two chapters.**  
><strong>My essays really need doing but meh, this was more interesting and fun to do. Might have to do those soon though Q _Q cruel cruel world...<strong>

**Anyway, reviews are golden :D Thank you~**


	21. The Pied Piper Calls

**Chapter twenty one, otherwise known as The Party- part one. Well the chapter where people get ready for the party anyway :I**  
><strong>Quick question has: has anyone elses fanfiction alerts been weird? I've been getting some alerts but not others and have to keep manually checking for updates : LAME. **

**Thanks to all the people that reviewed last time and joined us, welcomeee :D  
><strong>

**150th reviewer will get a one shot guys :D my reviews have dropped alately. *sad***

**Hetalia doesn't belong to me- thanks as always to my very patient beta who puts up with my garbage :')**

oOo

Lovino scowled darkly at his reflection as he attempted to tame the errant curl that refused to lie flat like the others. On any normal occasion he would not be overly stressed by its defiance, but the sound of chatter from downstairs coupled with the opening and closing of the front door was grating on his nerves. The people had started to arrive for the party and he wasn't even dressed yet. A sickly feeling that had been brewing all day was starting to make itself at home in his stomach, a knot of anxiety that bubbled in warning. Angrily he sighed, and used more cream on his head, tapping his foot in impatience. Outside the window was the blistering red of a summer twilight, the light from the sky was fought back by the clear colour of the bulbs giving the room a clinical feel that was doing nothing to soothe his nerves.

The door to his room creaked open and closed again, making the sound of the guests rise and fall like a wave. For a second he drowned in panic but then gained control of his body once more and steadied his breath. From his vantage point behind his changing screen he could not see who the visitor was but there was only one person he was waiting for.

"Lovi, I have your costume!" Antonio called. His tone was cheerful and relaxed, although there was a pink hurried tinge to his cheeks in his reflection in the changing screen mirror as he poked his head around to grin at Lovino. "I'm sorry I took so long, Feliciano was pestering Eliza for a few more sequins on his outfit and I had to wait for her to finish before she could iron it."

"Just put in on there." He ordered, pointing a finger without looking at the stool by his side that was set aside to hold clothes and shoes. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the mention of his brother who had already barged into his room more than once, seeming for sole purpose to annoy him. He had jumped on his bed and babbled excitedly at him until Ludwig, who looked close to an aneurysm, had picked him up and removed him by force. Feliciano had not returned since but he had made him incredibly late with his chattering.

Antonio did as requested and Lovino turned to look at him properly as he continued with the task of getting ready. Antonio was already dressed and wearing the servants costume that his Grandfather had commissioned. It was a black suit with a flouncy green neck tie that brought out the colour of his bodyguard's eyes, the colour which was the same shade of Lovino's own costume now in position on the chair. The tails on the back of the suit made his slim figure even more sleek. He had even attempted to brush his hair and flatten it down with cream but some of the edges still stood on end. Antonio caught his gaze and grinned widely. He scowled in response, blushing at being caught out staring.

"Get out while I'm changing." Lovino grumbled, shoving the other boy roughly by the head and closing the screen a little more behind him with force. He ignored the giggle that followed and began throwing on his costume without much care. It was full of layers and he had difficulty manoeuvring the tights but he was soon finished, the prospect of being late for his own party looming over him and speeding him up. As he slid on his shirt he wondered why his Grandfather had not come to nag him to hurry up yet, perhaps he was just letting him run fashionably late. It was his party after all.

"Need a hand?" Antonio asked as he was finishing buttoning his shirt. With it half undone he picked up his tie and stepped out. The bodyguard was looking the other way as though he would be tempted to peek if he had been facing in the right direction. He looked very handsome in his suit, Lovino would have much preferred to be wearing something similar to him rather than the over the top green assemble he had to wear. The silly sleeves and shorts were embarrassing to say the least. He felt like a moron. _Guys_, he thought angrily, _were not meant to wear tights_._ Especially not green ones._

He held out the tie in his right hand. "You can do my tie; give me a second to finish the buttons."

The Spaniard turned, grinning but the smile fell off his face to be replaced by a startled expression. Feeling self conscious at the reaction, Lovino blushed and stormed to the mirror behind the screen but nothing seemed out of place, there was nothing on his face either. He couldn't quite see what it was Antonio was staring at, and his frayed nerves took it as an insult.

"What?" He snapped, storming back to the other man. His expression had not changed and it fuelled the rage, he flipped the tie over the screen so that it hung their like a dead thing. "Damn it, what are you staring it?"

"Nothing, I-" The Spaniard avoided his gaze. Was it just a trick of the light or was he blushing? "I was just thinking you look amazing."

"We're obviously not looking at the same thing." He snapped as he moved to button up his shirt, growling in annoyance as the ridiculously droopy sleeves got in the way. It also didn't help that his hands were shaking like leaves in a gale as the voices downstairs were joined by the hum and whine of a band tuning up. He needed to get a move on or people were going to come and look for him.

Antonio smiled patiently after watching him for a while and calmly shoved his hands out of the way, taking his shirt and doing it up himself. Lovino opened his mouth to argue but the look of serene concentration on the other man's face put him off.

He had not thought about last night all day, too worried about the evening at hands to care, but suddenly he was very aware of what he had allowed and the closeness of the man right at that moment. He had let his bodyguard sleep in his bed. He blushed involuntarily at the memory of the proximity and the warmth, and felt ashamed. It was unprofessional and not the attitude of a leader to have someone sleep in a bed with him, over a nightmare of all things. He had to laugh inwardly that the best night's sleep he'd had in a long time had come at the expense of his dignity.

Antonio began to hum tunelessly as he worked, the vibration tracing its way up his arm and onto his chest. It was calming in its effect and Lovino sighed, letting out all of the built up tension he had acquired throughout the day.

He was lucky, he thought as Antonio's fingers traced their way up his shirt, that the Spaniard was such a good guy and a bit of an idiot. No one else, apart from his brother who he was sure had a screw or two loose anyway, would stand for that sort of behaviour. His Grandfather had never allowed him to show weakness over a nightmare. Many times as a child he had gone searching for comfort in the older man's presence but found none, he had then had to resort to his brother. Antonio must have really liked him to lay squished in the small bed all night. Lovino inspected his face which was so very close and felt a twinge of guilt when he realised that despite the healthy warm glow to the other's skin, under his eyes dark rings sat as testament to a sleepless night.

As Antonio did up the last button he paused in the action, frozen staring at the base of Lovino's neck in confusion. "What are these?"

"It's just my neck dumbass, what are you talking about?" He tried to swipe him away but was shocked when the bodyguard held on. Usually he would retreat grinning but this time he was determined and hung on even when pushed. His gaze was dark and troubled which it never was, and the look was enough to allow him to let Antonio move back the folds of material and turn him around to view it at different angles.

"Bruises. You have bruises on your neck." He sounded dumbfounded, as though he could not believe his own eyes. Lovino managed to shove him off and walked to the only other mirror in the room, the one by his desk which caught the light better to check if his words were true. Sure enough there were angry looking marks on his neck like someone had tried to choke him. If he looked close enough they were the right size to be finger prints.

"They must be from the alley," Lovino muttered. He looked up in the mirror to see Antonio's reflection where he left him, his lips pursed angrily and his fingers edging up to touch his hair, only to hover over it with the cream he had put on as though he was going to run his fingers through his hair as he did when he was fidgeting. He stared openly at him with worry, his green eyes haunted.

"You didn't have those the other day." He argued and Lovino was surprised to hear his voice shake.

Lovino knew he was right; all the other bruises he had received were well on their way to healing by now. He hadn't noticed these ones until pointed out to him, they didn't hurt but the marks were there on his skin for all to see. He couldn't quite think where they had come from. _It was no big deal,_ he thought and shrugged as he turned back around, and he had bigger things to worry about than mysterious marks. Like a certain party which he was late for.

Antonio it appeared did not feel the same way as he stood staring at him for a long time without moving, eventually lifting up his hands to ghost over his neck like an inspection. Lovino froze up at the sudden contact, his eyes widening in shock that his body would allow it. His breath hitched in his throat as the bodyguard leant in close to look at the marks better, his eyebrows furrowed together in concern.

"Not ready yet Lovino?" A voice called from the doorway, breaking the moment. Both men jumped apart and turned to face the visitor. Roma stood in the doorway with Viktor behind him looking as glum as ever. The bodyguard's outfit was the same as Antonio's but with a red tie to match the older man's majestic costume of scarlet and gold. He had chosen a very traditional style of masquerade, the thick coat with a fur collar over a pair shorts made him look like a Tudor king.

"No, I'm sorry Grandpa, I won't be a moment." He apologised, quickly distancing himself from Antonio. He blushed at being seen allowing someone so close into his bubble. "I just have to do my tie up."

His Grandpa stretched languidly over the threshold and towards him, the buckled shoes on his feet clipping along the floor purposefully. He had not yet put of his mask, which Viktor held between his skeletal fingers and his smile was on show. Lovino noted that under his arm, Roma was carrying a ribbon wrapped box, which he placed carefully on the side table as he leant back to survey him. He motioned for him to come closer rather than approach him and he did as instructed. His Grandfather watched him approach with hungry eyes, only letting his gaze off him when he was where he wanted him to be, to look up at the younger bodyguard with a smile.

"Leave us please, Antonio." He ordered pleasantly. Lovino glanced to the Spaniard in time to see his expression flash infuriated and for a horrible moment he believed that for whatever reason, Antonio was going to refuse to leave. But then his expression fell back into a thankful neutral. With a stiff bow he walked to the door, painfully slow and Viktor hurried to close it behind him as he too was dismissed with a nod. Green eyes caught his own for one moment and then the wood of the door blocked their view. The room felt very silent and far away from the bustle of the main room, his Grandfather's presence separated him from the rest of the world and he felt very alone. It was a new feeling and he wasn't used to it.

Wordlessly Roma reached for the tie on the screen and threw it around Lovino's neck like a noose. His fingers brushed the side of his face briefly as he silently straightened out and folded the tie.

"Are you excited?" He asked softly, almost a whisper as his fingers deftly creased the green material. Lovino nodded, knowing his Grandpa would be mad if the party, which he had put on especially for him, was not what he wanted. He couldn't help but feel his knees knock together in nerves as the older man grinned widely at him. "I am glad. I have been waiting for this day a long time Lovi."

"It is a shame your mother could not see you." He continued with a dry sigh, not looking him in the eyes. Lovino stared. His grandfather never talked about his parents. He had refused to when he was a child and so the boy had learned to leave the subject alone. "She would have loved to see this day I think. It is a shame she was taken from you before she could see you grow into the family. Those Russian's took a beautiful daughter from me, and a wonderful mother from you. It is a crime she cannot be here today. Your father on the other hand-"

He tugged the tie around Lovino's neck violently. He probably didn't mean to tie it as tight as he did but it did not stop Lovino gasping out. Roma didn't seem to notice his discomfort and carried on, his expression clouded with memories as his hands carried on moving unconsciously.

"Your father was a good man, but he was weak. He was not suited to this life. I am glad you are not like them Lovino, you are like me: in looks and disposition." Roma finished with the tie and reached up his hand to cup his grandson's cheek. The material around his neck was not tight enough to choke him but it was making it difficult to breathe too deeply and it brought tears to Lovino's eyes. Tears that were probably mistaken for emotional tears of some sort by the older man.

"I have brought you a present,_ mio caro_." His eyes crackled with his grin as he bore down on Lovino, his towering height blocking out the overhead light. Without releasing his face he reached beside him and fished up the ribboned box, placing it delicately in Lovino's hands which thankfully moved up of their own accord to accept the gift.

Lovino blushed and looked down. The wrapping had been done expertly and seeing as Feliciano had not blabbed about a gift, he had not been the one to wrap it. His brother could never keep a secret from him. His Grandfather must have done it and he was touched by the gesture, taking time out of his busy schedule must have been difficult for him, especially with a party to plan. "You shouldn't have, _Nonno_."

"_Non è niente_, I would buy the world for you my dear." He smiled, rubbing his thumb over the side of his cheek. "Open it now, before the party."

Lovino did as requested, his shaking hands fumbling briefly over the ties before the lid fell away. His heart hit somewhere in his mouth and a sickening feeling spread in his stomach. He was not sure what he had expected but he had definitely not seen this coming; nestled innocently in the paper was a gun. It looked brand new and shined deadly, reflecting the cold glare of the light above. Next to it was a bottle of some sort, whiskey by the looks of it.

His mouth felt dry, like someone had stuffed it with cotton but he managed to choke out a thank you to his Grandpa, even though he felt anything but thanks for the gift. Some gift, the thought of such a dangerous object in his possession made him feel dizzy and his legs begged him to sit down. The lack of oxygen made his head spin as he stared. The gun lay innocently in the box like a spider waiting to jump at him. If his hands hadn't had frozen onto the sides of the box, he would have thrown it to the floor in terror.

"I'm glad you like it." Roma purred as he rubbed his arm. "I wanted to give it to you, to show you as a proper member of the family. I would be a poor Grandfather if I let my _bambino_ wander around with only a bodyguard to protect him. What if Antonio was taken out? What would you do then?"

The idea of finding himself in such a situation made the taste of bile rise in his throat. Paperwork was one thing, but an actual confrontation? He couldn't, could he? It was obviously expected of him at some point, and he would have to rise to the occasion; the look on his Grandfather's face told him as much. His eyes were watchful and seemed to be searching his features for any signs of discomfort. Lovino swallowed painfully against the restrictions of the tie.

"And the whiskey comes from the Wang's shipment. You did good speaking to that Kiku boy. I thought one bottle would be price enough for your input. Soon I will take you to see where it went, would you like that?"

Lovino nodded slightly and pushed a smile onto his lips. "Yes Grandpa, very much. Thank you."

The older man sighed heavily and planted a strong kiss on his forehead, brushing back some escaping strands of hair in the process. He smiled down at Lovino pleasantly.

"Put that away and join me downstairs." He crooned as he turned from him and stormed to the door. Lovino had just enough time to slide the 'present' under his bed before he flung open the door to reveal Antonio stood behind it, ready to enter. His expression was oddly cool, and it made Roma chuckle as he clapped him on the shoulder fondly. He was strong despite his age and Antonio rocked on his heels under the force.

"Such an eager, young man." He laughed, leaving his hand on his shoulder for a good long minute before sweeping off down the corridor, his long coat flashing red around the corner. It was all the time Antonio needed to hurry back into the room and for Lovino to reach up his hand to pull at the tie which was slowly beginning to feel like it was closing up tighter against his windpipe. He coughed against the hold, his fingers fumbling uselessly over the knot that felt as though it was steel rather than silk.

Seeing him struggle, the Spaniard hurried forward helped him to loosen the folds of material. With one hearty tug the tension eased away and he was able to breathe easier again, although the lingering grasp still tingled across his neck. Rubbing it he mumbled a thanks and made his way without really thinking to the door but he was stopped in his tracks by a hand on his own. He stared down at it, confused, and then back up to Antonio's face. His green eyes blazed with something close to worry.

"What now?" He snapped his voice a little hoarse. The sound of the party was now in full swing and he was anxious to be down there and get the night over with. The faster he showed his face, the faster he could leave and be back in his room. The bodyguard's hold around his palm was warm and comforting, in a way, but he stared pointedly at the hand that held him for release.

Antonio blushed and got the message, dropping his hand as if scalded. A smile crept onto his lips but it seemed false, his eyes too tense to support the happy display. "You forgot your mask, Lovi."

Lovino glanced at the waiting green object and snatched it up, forcing it on his head with very little care for how his hair looked now.

"Come on." He grumbled, waiting for Antonio to open the door for him he breezed out and towards the root of the noise, his legs shaking so much he found it difficult to walk. It was only Antonio's consistent presence by his sleeve that made him stand up straight and walk into his own personal hell.

oOo

The clatter of pots against pans was like the symphony of a straining brass orchestra. Roderich, with his hands elbow deep in soap suds, rubbed at a particularly persistent spot of grease that refused to remove itself from the metal pan in his hands. The kitchen was a mess, the usually shining worktops laden down on one side of the room with food ready to be taken out, the other with the utensils that had been used to make them. The room was filled with the scent of cooking food which tingled Roderich's nostrils as he worked away at his task. Beyond the kitchen door was the sound of the party in full swing, people chatting over the sound of the band as they played a jumpy sort of swing music. It was not his favourite but he appreciated the beat and hummed along as he worked, a lot more cheerful looking on the outside than he felt inside.

He tried to focus on his work and getting it done as quickly as possible so that he would be able to go out into the party area, which consisted of the entrance hall, the dining room and the sitting room. He was all too aware that he was not completing his job at keeping an eye out for anything suspicious for the police, but he allowed himself a moment to relax as he tapped his foot in time to the rhythm of the music. The night was still young and he would be easily able to blend into the crowd. He would be nigh on invisible to the eye, just another servant. The help of Alisha and a couple of her waiters from the restaurant would make it even easier to spy on the goings on.

He did not turn as the door to the kitchen opened and the sound of the party swelled, he was used to the waiters going in and out of the room by now and he had stopped checking which ones they were, preferring to finish his job. When the door opened he caught between the babble and music the louder, more raucous tones of the master. If the Vargas' were starting to come down from upstairs then the party would quickly be well under way and he needed to hurry. He scrubbed at the pot with more vigour, and moved onto the next.

"What are you up to, Roderich?" A voice called softly from the doorway. He flinched at the familiar tone and turned. Viktor was watching him from his position in the doorway, a blank expression on his pale face.

Roderich had not realised it was him. The shock at seeing the bodyguard soon wore off and he registered his words with a hint of dread. He shook it off with a shaky smile. "Oh, Viktor I didn't see you there. I am just washing the pots as requested, I'll be out soon-"

"No," The other man interrupted. In a fluid movement his erect figure had passed the confines of the kitchen to stand behind him. The room, which usually felt so big, now felt very small indeed. Viktor's expression might have been calm but his eyes were narrow slits of ice blue that bore down on him like a glacier about to fall into the sea. "I meant what I said. What are you up to?"

"I assure you, I have no idea what you mean." Roderich's mouth was dry and his stomach contracted in fear but he was surprised how calm his voice sounded to his own ears. He removed himself from the sink and turned to face him, casually grabbing a nearby towel to catch the suds on his arms. His hands shook slightly as he wiped them.

"Do not lie to me." Viktor hissed, stepping forward threateningly. Roderich did not move, thinking only of his wife and what it meant for her if he opened his mouth. With her face in mind he was able to keep his expression straight and not show his fear. "I have seen you acting oddly. Ever since those men were outside in the car, the men that come and go daily, you have been strange. Tell me now what you are doing, then perhaps I can help you stay alive."

It seemed a good offer but there had to be a catch. The bodyguard was stubbornly loyal to his master; Roderich knew they had been together back in Italy when the family had lived there many years ago. It was Viktor that had taught the boss English , and he had been there at the birth of Roma's daughter and the boys. As far as he knew they were close, although he doubted men like them could have real friends. Viktor had always been cold and distant for as long as he could remember, so why would he offer to help him now? If he truly knew what he was actually doing, he doubted he would be so forgiving. There was a one way ticket for people like him, if and when they were found out of course. Perhaps this was all a display to gain his trust so that Viktor could rat him out to the boss. He would not allow that to happen, he had too much to lose.

"There is nothing wrong Viktor-" Roderich protested but was once again cut across.

"Do not lie to me!" The bodyguard did not shout but his tone tore straight through him like a knife. It was dangerous, and looking into those blue eyes he was painfully reminded that Viktor was just as dangerous as the man he protected. And at the moment, perhaps even more. "I am trying to-"

Viktor did not finish, as at that moment a group of waiters entered the kitchen talking loudly as they collected the trays of food to serve to the guests. They did not look in their direction, too busy with their own conversation to care, but Viktor moved away from Roderich. The butler thought his heart might explode with how fast it was beating in his chest and he allowed himself to breathe as the other man shifted himself so they were no longer nose to nose.

The men took their time collecting up the plates and talking, and Roderich knew it would be his only chance to get his own back on the man before him for years of degrading work and mental anguish.

"You better get back." He whispered so that the others couldn't hear him. He wasn't quite sure where the courage for his next words came from. "Roma will be wondering where his dog got to."

Viktor narrowed his eyes and sneered at the insult.

"Remember," he growled darkly. "I tried."

And with that he was gone, flying from the room like the nightmare he was, leaving before the first of the waiters had even reached the door. Roderich watched him go, feeling light headed and queasy at his own daring. But above all he felt accomplished, Viktor might have been suspicious but he had held his ground and admitted nothing. Innocent until proven guilty after all.

Smiling widely he turned back to his cleaning, eager to leave the room and get onto his real work.

oOo

The red of the sky was blood, staining the inky black of the city with its glow. The street lamps had yet to turn on and the setting of the sun was the only source of illumination on the dark street. The houses on the usually quiet back street looked dim in comparison to the glow of the Vargas household which almost throbbed like a beacon, all the lights in the house lit up. The hum of a band played and people were drawn into the mouth of the front door as if the pied piper was calling to them. Women clattered along the pavement in heels, the swish of their dresses and tinkle of their long beads a whisper in the twilight; most of the people edging their way towards the building looked cheerful and pleased but Gilbert could sense, rather than see, the people who didn't want to be there. Their smiles and laughs were about as fake as the masks they wore on their face.

With a sigh he flicked the butt of the cigarette he'd been smoking into a nearby gutter. The golden light was swallowed into the black with a resounding plop as it hit the murky water below. Straightening himself from his slouch, he brushed down his jacket, glancing once in his companion's direction. Birdie's gaze was fixed on a gaggle of pretty women as they wandered past, chatting away with each other, occasionally laughing shrilly as one of them told a joke. A stroke of pity touched his heart and he patted the other's shoulder to gain their attention. Large black eyes behind a yellow feathered mask met his own and he grinned widely.

"Come on," He said confidently as he put on his own mask, shaped in the long beak of a raven with black feathers. Neither of them had bothered with elaborate outfits and instead wore suits to match their masks, Gilbert had chosen an obnoxious white one with a black tie. He loved the suit because it made him look extra cool but it wasn't really a day wear sort of clothing. It looked much more in place at a masquerade ball, same for Birdie's own canary yellow piece. The smaller of the two looked glum.

He grinned wolfishly to his companion and winked. "Chin up, I can see your frown from all the way up here, shortie."

As if to make a point he patted his helper on the head. The other blond pursed their lips and whistled a low note of displeasure, but there was amusement in their dark eyes as they glared up at the taller man. Gilbert laughed at the severe expression, glad they no longer looked as depressed as before. He hated it when Birdie pulled those faces and now of all times was the time to work; emotion had no place in a lion's den.

He squared himself up and took a deep breath as he faced the house. "Let's go start a war."

oOo

**Translations_  
>mio <em>_caro- _my dear_  
>Non è niente- <em>It's nothing_  
>bambino- <em>Baby**

**So what will happen with Gilbert next chapter? The rest of the party, ie the whole of it, will be pretty big and I have no idea how long it will take to write. Plus I'm still a little foggy on the details. By Sunday I'll be back at university (meaning work) and I'll be working a lot until then, sooooo maybe a while yet. I have a feeling it will be massive so apologies but hopefully it will be worth the wait.**

**Ahh who am I kidding probably not :') anyway drop a review, tell me what you think. Remember 150th gets a one shot of their choice :D**


	22. Of Masks and War

**My main excuse is that this is nearly three times the size I usually write, and I've had work to do as well. Posting this up in my break before food. It's been beta'd but because of its size we're bound to have missed stuff but it shouldn't be too bad. It's done anyway, I need to lay down I think...**

**No page breaks either. I was going to split it and put it up in two parts but it didn't flow well so here we are. Enjoy your soul being taken by the size of this chapter.**

**Thank you so much for all the reviews and favourites/alerts for the last chapter. You guys are all awesome. I will still be doing a one shot for the 150th reviewer so keep going for that :) I am really looking forward to working with one of you again! Should be fun! :D  
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**Kept you waiting long enough, here you go- the party scene**  
><strong>Hetalia is not mine<strong>

oOo

Lovino had never seen the staircase look so grand and impressive, nor had he ever seen so many people crowding in the lofty hall below. His Grandfather had ordered flower wreathes to be hung along the banister and the soft fragrance of roses filled with room, not quite covering the smell of cigar smoke from the gentlemen or the cigarette smoke from the ladies. The room was bright but hazy as the smoke drifted up the stairs, clawing at his heels as he descended into the mist. It was like walking into a dream, the music from the band on the far wall tantalizing people to dance and move closer to the source of the music. Some had moved forward and danced languidly before the little stage, the others were clustered around the front door and near the kitchens where buffet tables had been laid out. All the guests were finely dressed in their best clothes, some had even hired traditional masquerade costumes like his own, but most wore the latest fashion. The men's suits were slim lined, the women's dresses similarly so with ropes upon ropes of beads jangling at their necks. There was feathers and glitter everywhere. Everyone was wearing a mask and Lovino froze with his foot on the step as people turned eerily in his direction to watch him enter, their masked faces glittering and catching the light briefly before turning back to their individual conversations, quickly losing interest in the new arrival.

He let out a shaky breath and clutched the banister so hard his knuckles turned white with the effort. Lovino steeled himself for what was about to happen the moment he let himself be taken up by the crowd, he seemed to hang like a diver over a sheer expanse of water, his legs quaking with the strain of trying not to run. Antonio, noticing his reluctance, placed a calming hand on his shoulder and smiled encouragingly behind his own mask of black satin.

"Everything will be fine." He promised. Lovino sniffed and shrugged him off. Antonio's words were a comfort but he did not need to show how much they meant to him, even though they were warm and promising. He was right of course; he was making this whole night out to be something dangerous and terrible. People were already ignoring him, just how he liked it. They hadn't made a big fuss when he'd entered or anything, things would be okay if he just stuck to the shadows.

"I know, dammit." He grunted, needlessly readjusting his costume as though the bodyguard's touch had disturbed it in some way. "Keep your hands to yourself."

Antonio grinned, pleased with himself as they walked down the last few steps. Almost the instant his foot touched the marble of the lobby floor a figure suddenly swooped down on them in a shining wave of red and gold. Roma had put his mask on now, it was fitted to his face and covered half of it, shining brilliantly in the light; it caught the colour of his eyes and made them smoulder like flames. He was without the usual shadow of Viktor beside him and Lovino faintly wondered where the bodyguard could be, surely in a room full of people there were dangers everywhere, it was bad practise to leave a charge in such a situation all alone. But then Roma grabbed Lovino's arm and stopped his train of thought, distracting him with a large smile. In one hand he held a flute of what appeared to be champagne which he shoved it roughly into his grandson's hand and he only just caught it in time, the cool surface sliding around his fingers clumsily before he got a proper grip on it. Roma spoke into his ear, a little louder than usual to be heard over the chatter of the guests and the thrum of the music. "So what do you think?"

It was far too smoky for his liking but it was okay he guessed. The room had scrubbed up nicely to say it was only alobby, he had yet to see the other rooms but he knew they would be similarly dressed up. He nodded and smiled politely.

"It's great Grandpa. Thank you." Roma's smile burst wide and bright like a sunrise across his face at the words and he pulled forward the arm his his hold so that Lovino was closer and her could easily loop his arm around Lovino shoulders. His Grandfather's presence instantly blocked out Antonio, who was left behind on the stairs, as he steered him away. Lovino could not tell if Antonio was following and was left to be swallowed up by the sea of nameless faces and people he barely knew. Once or twice he thought he caught someone's familiar features but he was ushered away before he could get a proper look. The people greeted his Grandfather as they walked and he afforded them small, polite nods or in some cases an actual greeting of words. But Roma's main goal did not seem to be to parade him off for once.

"I want to show you something, Lovino." Roma said into his ear, no longer having to shout with how close they were. His hold was like iron on his back and Lovino had no option but to follow. His drink was jostled slightly at the movement, his Grandpa noticed and chuckled. "Drink up, there is plenty where that came from."

He wasn't much of a drinker and he knew exactly where the drink had come from, but he did as he was told and sipped the bitter liquid. They passed by the front doors which were open and people were entering drawn in from the outside like glistening insects to light. A group of people were stood on the steps looking in wistfully from their tiptoes, they probably lacked invites and were left waiting on the stairs in the off chance they could slip in. A lot of young men and women with too much time and too little money were known to drop from party to party, smelling out the liquor like rats. They were a nuisance; he was not surprised that his Grandfather had the doormen keep them out.

Lovino's heart beat rapidly in his chest as his Grandfather drew him towards to band, he wondered what he could possibly want to show him there of all places, but then they veered off towards an alcove created by hanging red drapes that covered the walls near the door. Roma steered them both around so that they were facing the room; from their vantage point they could see everything and everyone in the room. Lovino caught sight of Antonio following after them at a distance, striding purposely through the crowd to reach their position, his eyes never leaving the area where they were stood even when people passed in front of him. He felt a touch of relief at the sight; he wouldn't have to look for him now in any case. His Grandfather ignored the bodyguard and instead loosened his hold to survey Lovino at a distance, smiling down at him in pleasure.

"I wanted to introduce you to the family," He said while leaning forwards again. With one hand he motioned to the room in general and the people within it, with the other he played fondly with the hair at the base of Lovino's neck. "The people are all mine, one day soon they will be yours. You need to get to know them as you know yourself; it will make working with them a lot easier."

Protests crossed Lovino's mind in a blur, that he did not want to know these people, that he did not want to own them, but he pushed the thoughts aside and focused on maintaining the smile on his face. Surely he would get to know them better through talking to them face to face but his Grandpa looked like he knew what he was doing.

He pointed to a pasty looking man across the other side of the room. His mask was tacky, probably a dollar at a tacky thrift store and he stared morosely into his glass without talking to anyone, his eyes occasionally flying upwards to flick around the room as though afraid he was being watched.

"That fellow over there is Mr Dorman," Roma purred into his ear. Lovino could not hold back a shiver as his breath tickled against his neck. "He got involved in some sticky business last summer with a young woman in the next town over. Both he and his wife are very influential people; they have hands in the mayor's office amongst other things. It would be very, ah... distasteful if she or the press were to find out about his little lady in the south."

Lovino watched the man, looking in pity at his watery little eyes and the way they darted around the room in fear like a rat caught in a trap. Why was he here? Was it just fear or was there more? There always was with his Grandfather. His stomach bubbled uneasily and he swallowed more champagne to ease it a little. Roma's fingers curved on his neck, lightly caressing the skin beneath as he turned him slightly to point to a middle aged woman not far from where they were stood. She was not as on edge as Mr Dorman but her complexion was wan and faded under the bright lights, her costume old and unfashionable with dust still lingering on the sleeves. Next to all the pert younger women she looked like a moth amongst butterflies.

"And here we have Mrs Greenwald," Roma hummed. "She and her husband run the laundry on the next block over, or at least they did; Mr Greenwald died in an accident last month. The car he was in had brake troubles and it ran into the river."

On closer inspection Lovino realised her feature were in fact familiar, but they were slightly marred by what he realised with a jolt was grief. She seemed so alone, even surrounded by all the other people in the hall she eluded an air of misery and dejection that only loss could bring on. Taking another sip of his drink with a shaking hand, he wondered what could possibly link her to the man beside him. He had walked past that laundry hundreds of times when going to work, Mrs Greenwald has always been a nameless face, but then she had seemed happy. He had seen taking shopping back to the house with a man around her age, her husband. He had not really seen either of them in a long time, and now he knew why.

"Poor Mrs Greenwald has four young children to look after and the store was seriously losing profit before I stepped it. I did her a big favour you see, and for that she repays me greatly. An allowance once a month is more than enough, to protect her business and her little broken family."

Lovino stared as if enthralled but inside he felt vaguely sick. The family was preying on a widowed woman? This was a development he had not heard about. He had thought that women, and children too, were something sacred and untouchable but his Grandpa was using them for money. There must have been another reason; surely something had gone wrong somewhere. He didn't have time to think about it as a man approached them suddenly, splitting off for the crowd to join them and swaying with the alcohol swimming in his veins. He was young and unfamiliar.

"Mr Vargas, sir!" He hiccupped thrusting forward his hand in his Grandfather's direction. As if on cue, Viktor materialised beside him ready to step in, a scowl on his face as he glared at the young man.

"Ah, Mr Russell!" Roma had to unwind himself from Lovino's shoulders to take the man's hand but replaced his arm again as soon as the job was done, holding him close. The smile on his face was exceedingly charming under his mask. "Enjoying the party?"

He looked like he was enjoying the drink in his hand more than the party but he nodded excitably. "Oh yes sir, it reminds me of playing Bassanio in The Merchant of Venice back in '22. All the beautiful costumes, but these are far more dazzling with all the sequins, although they'd blind an audience-"

"Mr Russell here is an aspiring actor, Lovino," Roma interrupted, throwing him a wink out of the corner of his eye. He found he had no words to respond with and took to finishing his drink instead, gulping down the remaining drops. "He is very talented, so much so I decided to give him a little money to get him started."

"About that actually," The young man looked peevish under his mask as he edged forward a little to mutter privately behind his hand. "A couple of the girls wanted me to take them to a club after this, and my landlord has been on at me for the rent. They're real biscuits you see, you couldn't help a fellow out could you?"

Lovino had no idea what a 'biscuit' was, he wasn't quite up to date on modern slang but his Grandfather laughed knowingly. He gestured to the bodyguard by his side. "Pay the man, Viktor. And remember to write a note in my book."

Mr Russell moved forward eagerly to get his money, holding out his hand expectantly to the bodyguard as if he was a beggar off the street. Viktor wrinkled his nose in dislike but did as he was told. The uneasy bubble of Lovino's stomach had not died down, if anything it was slowly increasing, and the drink was not helping very much but he needed something to do with his hands. If not, Lovino might just have thrown them over his face in despair. He went to sip automatically forgetting it was empty. His Grandfather noticed the action and smiled patiently.

"Go and enjoy the party _mio amore_." He said, briefly pressing a kiss to his head and inhaling the scent of his hair before releasing him. "Chat to the guests, dance with the girls; whatever you like. This is your party. I'll find you if I need you."

He did not look forward to more introductions but he was glad to be set free, maybe then he would be able to disappear into a corner and be ignored for the rest of the night. Lovino nodded quickly and enforced the smile on his face. "Thank you _Nonno_."

Before his Grandfather could keep him with anything else he hurried away, not even paying attention to the room and charging head first into the crowd without really thinking about his destination. The lobby gave off the feeling of a meeting room where people could chat and smoke at ease, or in the case of some of the people, stay out of the way of the dance floor by sticking to the edges of the room. Lovino just charged straight through them, ignoring the irritated mutterings and complaints. He found himself haunted with the haggard faces of the people his Grandfather was taking money off; the man who would pay anything for a scandal not to reach his wife and the mother that had no money but needed to protect her children. He felt as lost as they did. Soon the naïve Mr Russell would join them amongst the many he would soon hold power over.

Antonio glided in beside him as he stormed on, smiling aimlessly at the room in general. His bright and bubbly attitude put Lovino on edge and caused him to scowl darkly as they neared the buffet table that was laid out with treats and snacks. A queue had formed beside it as people got their food and drinks. He felt slightly queasy and couldn't help but question his own motives to be at the buffet apart from he needed a drink to drown his own sorrows.

"Having fun?" The bodyguard asked as they waited. Lovino couldn't help but tap his foot impatiently as the mass of people waiting did not seem to move, chatting and laughing without a care in the world.

He grunted and folded his arms, clutching them tight to his chest in a hug. "I suppose. It's too crowded and smelly though."

He did not want to admit out loud that the knowledge of being surrounded by all the people his Grandfather used was turning his stomach. A tray of drinks appeared at his arm suddenly, held by Elizabeta who looked very pretty in her ornate black evening dress that showed off her bump more than her normal uniform would. She positively glowed, her hair up in an ornate bun and her cheeks pink from the warmth of serving the guests.

"Lovino, Antonio!" She beamed as Lovino took a glass and knocked the drink back with a flick of his wrist. "Isn't the party wonderful?"

"It is very beautiful," The Spaniard smiled but there was worry in his eyes as his charge reached for another drink, he grabbed his wrist before he could put it to his lips and pursed his lips. "Hey now Lovi, don't you think you're going too fast with that?"

Lovino snatched his arm back and scowled. He did not need to be told what to do by his own bodyguard, especially at his own party. If getting slightly drunk and having to leave early was what it would take to be able to retreat to his room then he was fine with that. Rather a hangover than the stress of the party. He didn't say this but he thought it violently as he stared darkly at Antonio whose green eyes were unflinching.

"I think all the plans have come into order, I must say the Master knows how to organise a party." Elizabeta continued cheerfully having not caught Antonio's words. A man pressed up to her to get a drink and she served him. "Here you go, sir. Well I better be off, have fun you two!"

The chances of that happening were very unlikely but Lovino nodded anyway as she danced off, disappearing through the crowd to be replaced by a man with spiky honey coloured hair. He grabbed the man who had got a drink by the arm, who was currently drinking it as fast as Lovino had drunk his own. The man had pale hair and even paler skin that was flushed with drinking. Even as they watched, he tottered on the spot slightly.

"Christ Lukas, would you just slow down?" Lovino instantly recognised Mathias voice. He did not want to talk to him and moved to escape before he was spotted but he'd stayed still too long. It did not help that his costume was brighter and more elaborate than all of the other people around him, declaring his status for all to see. "Hey, hey- aren't you the boss' grandson? Nice costume kid."

Lovino gritted his teeth in annoyance at his rudeness. He was twenty one; Mathias could have only been a few years older than him. He was not a child and he certainly did not like being called kid, but he had to be polite to the guests and his Grandfather would be upset if he had been rude to one of his favourite lackeys. He forced a smile.

"Good evening, Mr Køhler." He said through clenched teeth. Beside him Antonio shifted closer protectively before he elbowed him back into place. "Are you enjoying the party?"

"It's pretty good, really nice." He replied. His eyes were on Lovino but his focus was on the man beside him and his voice was distant, the smile on his face a little false. Lukas he had called him; Lovino glanced to the pale haired man. His face was unmasked and his eyes were surrounded by black rings, his face unnaturally pale in the harsh lighting of the room. He was well on his way to being very drunk and swayed on the spot, his eyes struggling to focus. What struck Lovino the most about the man was not any of this but the blue eyes that met his own, and how full of hate they were. Anger washed off him in waves and for a second he thought he might lunge at his throat, but then he returned to swallowing his drink as though he was dying of thirst.

"Lukas, please." Mathias grumbled and became preoccupied with trying to remove the drink from his hands. Antonio's hand wrapped itself firmly around Lovino's upper arm and he allowed himself to be moved away, grateful to be free of the unpleasant situation although it did not stop him pouting upwards at the bodyguard.

The found a gap in the crowd between the table and the staircase. By now the crowd was very thick and the babble of voices strained to be heard over the music from the band who were playing popular songs. With a scowl Lovino wrenched his arm from the bodyguard's grasp.

"I can walk myself you know." He grumbled. He realised he still had the drink in his hand from Elizabeta, and that he no longer wanted it. Not really. The sight of Lukas drinking had put him off and he shoved the half empty glass at a nearby waiter, ignoring the shocked glance from Antonio at his change of heart. "Why did you drag me away anyway? I was talking."

"I didn't like the look the little guy was giving you." He shrugged, avoiding his gaze and looking around the room with a pleasant smile on his face like he looking for a friend. At the huff that Lovino made he turned back to face him with a soft smile, his eyes glittering. "Besides you didn't seem to be enjoying it much. I have to keep an eye out for these things. I'm paid to protect you remember?"

"How could I forget, you-" He started to say but a figure leaped from the crowd with a gleeful yell and attached itself to his stomach, almost knocking him flying in the process.

"_Ciao_ Lovino!" Feliciano chuckled into his chest as the older of the two struggled to pry the younger boy from him without much success, he had him in a death grip and his hands had grabbed handfuls of material. No amount of struggling could get him off.

"Feli! Let me go!" Lovino complained, and the only response he got was a giggle. People close by were starting to stare at the show of affection and his face heated up. He rounded on Antonio.

"See this did you, bastard?" He snarled at his bodyguard.

The Spaniard only laughed in response. "Of course I did, Lovi."

He opened his mouth to shout abuse at him for being such an idiot, but at that moment the familiar figure of Scipio appeared at his side with Ludwig following after. He did not want to swear in front of a priest and was almost thankful to Ludwig when he muttered something in his brother's ear that made him release him. Almost, he knew that if he'd tried harder he wouldn't have jumped him. Feliciano jumped back in a display of sequins; his costume was easily the most elaborate out of the entire family. He was a vision in varying shades of blue, from light on the lace to dark on the stitching. The sleeves of his suit were ornately large and ruffled, and the shorts similarly so. The added sequins sparkled under the lights and dazzled almost as bright as his smile, which beamed out from beneath a winged mask.

"Are you enjoying your party?" Feliciano chirped as he clattered on the tiles in his little buckled shoes. Feliciano did not seem too bothered by the tights on his legs and seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself. Lovino wondered if he'd got hold of some of the punch from the table, but then again his brother was always this cheerful.

"Yes, _fratello_." He sighed. Feliciano beamed and grabbed his hands, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet as he spoke.

"Grandpa really pulled out all the stops, it is beautiful." He chattered. "It's all so pretty and there are lots of good looking boys and girls and music and dancing. Have you danced yet? I wanted to, I asked Ludwig and he said no. Ah, where are my manners? Scipio is here Lovi, say hello!"

Lovino could not help but roll his eyes. He prayed he was joking about the dancing thing; he did not need to worry about his brother tonight. "I can see that Feli. Hello, sir, I did not realise you were invited."

Scipio sniffed loudly through his nose. He was wearing the usual long robes that he wore for Sunday service, still covered along the bottom with the dust from the aisles. Only the collar at his neck was white and crisp, keeping his neck upright and dignified.

"Mr Vargas insisted I come along." He did not seem very pleased but a smile twitched in his lips as he glanced at the younger Vargas and his eyes softened a little. "He said Feliciano would be very upset if I did not turn up. A few hours can't hurt I suppose, it is only a social gathering."

"A party, Scipio." Feliciano corrected. The band finished their song with a flourish and over the polite clatter of applause they started the next one. It was a new song and excitement instantly spread over the younger boy's face as he jumped up and down in time to the beat.

"Come on, Ludwig!" He demanded, seemingly unable to wait any longer he grabbed his bodyguard's hand and pranced off into the crowd, dragging the bumbling potato eater with him. Lovino watched him disappear in horror; he had thought he was joking about the dancing but apparently not. He could not seriously be thinking that it was acceptable, there were people around and-

"So, is this party for your birthday?" Scipio asked breaking him from his thoughts. He turned to the pastor whose eyes were cold as they fixed themselves on his features. The sight made him freeze up. "Or is Roma just showing off his heir?"

Lovino blinked, shocked by the venom in the other man's words. "I don't understand what you mean-" He managed to mumble but was cut across.

"Your birthday was earlier in the year." Scipio continued as if he had responded to his question and not answered with confusion. Beside him Antonio's eyes narrowed darkly. "So I assume it is the second option. Such a mess this whole thing is, such a mess. Do you see that man over there, Master Vargas?"

Lovino followed his hand to the place in the room he had just left, Mathias and Lukas was still by the buffet table. The taller blond was trying to persuade him to eat something to soak up the drink in his system but the smaller man was having none of it, even though his legs were unable to support his weight very well any more. The hired waiters were giving them a wide berth as were the other guests who clearly didn't want to get in their way. At the sight a hard knot formed in Lovino's stomach and his mouth tasted sour.

"That man lost his only living relative a few days ago, his brother." The knot tightened slightly. Lovino looked closer at Lukas dejected figure and his blank eyes, his scrabbling to the table for a drink was like the scrapping of a man trying to pull himself from a roaring river that keeps pulling him back into the depths. He could see him drowning and no one could help him.

"He was shot and he died almost instantly." Scipio did not clarify how he knew this information but simply watched Lovino to see if his words had any effect. Antonio placed himself so that he was slightly in front of him, blocking the blond's line of sight. He carried on regardless. "He was called Emil. He worked for your Grandfather."

How had he not heard about this? Surely it was important to the business if a man had died, he had been told all the other necessary information so why not this? Was he being protected? His hands shook slightly.

"What does this have to do with the party?" He demanded, feeling more than a little angry. He knew there was a reason he did not like this man, Scipio shrugged.

"It has nothing to do with the party, but it also has everything to do with it." He said. "Here we are, living up a lavish lifestyle of parties and fun while at the heart of the matter are families broken up by this world. Do you think Emil is the first to die doing your Grandpa's work? Do you think that the people always know what they're doing?"

Lovino was struck with the image of the men and women who his Grandfather owned, their haggard faces and ghostlike existence layered in pain and suffering. Their faces were mirror images of Lukas, their eyes just as dull and hollow. He felt sick with the thought.

Antonio glanced back at his pale face and squared up to the pastor. He was just as tall as the blond but a lot wider and more intimidating.

"You are meant to be a man of God." He hissed, barely audible over the music and the chatter that carried on around them as though nothing was wrong. "Are you threatening him?"

Scipio did not back down from the bodyguard and merely returned his glare in equal measure, there was a certain softness in his eyes as he looked past Antonio and caught Lovino's eye. Unable to keep his gaze he looked away. "No, I am only warning him. Bad things happen in this family, if he is not careful he could be swallowed up like his mother before him. He will take his body and soul if he is not careful."

He did not need to ask who 'he' was because Lovino already knew, deep down he knew. He had known from a young age what his Grandfather did and the life he led. He was under no false conceptions that everything was okay and good, but neither did he want to admit to himself the human cost his family had. People died, innocent people. Families were broken up and left to rot. Sure there were the ones that worked for his Grandfather, most of which knew exactly what they were getting themselves into. But then there were the victims and the people who had got in the way. He did not want to imagine how horribly some of them had died. Lovino recalled with a sickly feeling his 'present' hidden away in his room, he saw now what he would be expected to do.

His head swam and without really considering the outcome, he bolted. His thoughts were jumbled and confused, swirling around his head like the cigarette smoke in the room and filling his senses with panic. He needed to get away from Scipio; he had to destroy the weapon in his room. Throw it from the window, sell it, hide it away; anything so he would not have to use it. He pushed his way through the crowd, ignoring Antonio's frantic shouts for him to slow down as he sped past the wall of bodied, knocking people aside blindly. Lovino could barely breathe and took haggard breaths around his numb mouth.

He was pulled to an abrupt stop by a searing grip on his arm that jerked him back into the room and his sense. His eyes met gold ones and a furious expression formed through the anxiety, far too close to his own face. He tried to jump back but his Grandfather held him still, his hand clasped around his arm like iron. Viktor stood to one side, watching the exchange with a passive gaze.

"Lovino, where on earth do you think you are rushing off too?" His tone was deadly and the glare he gave Antonio as he skidded to a stop beside them was acidic. Roma glanced between them for an answer, his scowl deepening as he saw that Lovino had been heading towards the stairs. "You are not leaving this room. The party is not finished yet."

Antonio pulled a face, a mixture of panic and anger, and reached forward to grab Lovino's other arm, more gently than his Grandpa was holding the other. "Please, Mr Vargas he wasn't-"

Roma's face turned pale and flashed with fury. In a sudden movement he had easily snatched his grandson from Antonio's grasp and pulled him in close to his side. Lovino could not help but wince at the movement and flinched when his Grandfather lowered his face to his own.

His tone was low and threatening and he doubted anyone but him heard it as the words hissed against his ear, cold and chilling. "Stop acting like such a child and behave yourself. You are spoiling our day. You will behave properly, or you will be punished."

"Excuse me," A measured, even voice interrupted right behind them. Roma's face contorted in annoyance before he rounded on the newcomer who stood expectantly with his arms crossed. The room seemed to shift around the man, his pale grin shone out at them from a sea of peoplealong with the young man who was stood beside him in a vibrant yellow suit. The man who had spoken was taller than the younger one, his eyes dark and teasing behind the feathered beaked mask.

"Can I help you?" Roma snapped releasing Lovino's arm at the sight of an audience. Lovino tottered backwards at the abrupt movement and collided with Antonio's chest. The bodyguard caught him and his arms wrapping themselves slightly around his waist, but when Lovino looked up to tell him to let go his sights were fixed on the newcomer with suspended disbelief, his green eyes large and shocked. He looked as though he had seen a ghost and it was pretty unsettling.

"I have a message to deliver to a Mr Vargas." The man shrugged nonchalantly, bringing Lovino's attention back to the situation. His eyes glinted behind the mask like chips of dark rubies. "And seeing as you're the most ostentatiously dressed guy here I'm assuming you're my man."

Roma bristled at the remark and narrowed his eyes. He was not used to such disregard for his position and took the statement badly, barely disguised fury welling up behind his eyes. "I don't take work related messages at parties-"

"Believe me fella, you're going to want to take this message." He chuckled. Lovino could not see how he could be so calm with the way his Grandfather staring at them. It was the stare he reserved for when things were not going his way, a dangerous look and the sight of it chilled his heart.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't have you thrown on your face on the pavement." Roma hissed, his pleasant demeanour gone out of the window at the show of rudeness from the man. Beside him the young man moved in closer, looking for protection or perhaps trying to protect, it was difficult to tell with his size. The pale haired man shoved him to the side gently, grinning as though everything was under control.

"I am here on the half of my employer." He said lightly, stepping forward slightly to get nearer to the older man. Their conversation was low so they would not disturb the other guests around them who were continuing with the party, totally oblivious to the perilous state they could be involved in if things went wrong.

Viktor shifted so he could easily defend Roma, it was then as his back was no longer turned in his direction, that Lovino noticed the bodyguard's face; pale and quivering in silent rage. The blond haired man looked as though he would like nothing more than to reach forward his hands and throttle the bold man before him. Lovino could not see why, he was a stranger after all. What impact did he have on him? Antonio had still not released him and he struggled to be freed from the hold the bodyguard had.

From the crowd three men appeared behind Roma as though summoned to his aid, one he recognised as Heracles, the other was a stranger in a white mask. The other was Roderich who did not seem to want to be there but had managed to stick himself between the two other men. Heracles and the stranger watched Gilbert unblinkingly who didn't seem to notice. Roderich seemed skittish as though he would rather be doing other things.

Things were going to start turning very nasty very soon, Lovino could almost feel the sparks flying through the air and people in the crowd where starting to finally sense it too, the smell of a fight thick on the air. Antonio seemed to come back to himself finally and, realising the danger, moved them out of harms way but close enough to still here the conversation.

"Who is this employer, may I ask?" Roma looked a lot more menacing now with four men to back him up in comparison to the man's one. The boy looked more worried than his boss did, his mouth tensed in worry below his mask which was also adorned with feathers.

"His name is Ivan Braginski; I think you might know the guy." Roma's face grew dark and his gaze more calculating as he seemed to weigh up his options. Lovino had to rest the urge to run again, his legs telling him to run but his brain telling him to stay and see this out. This man was one of the Russian's men, probably pretty important with the way he was talking. He had not seen anyone from that group since the day he had been attacked and the sight of one of its members now chilled him to the core; these were the men that had killed his parents. He knew he should have been angry and defensive but he could feel nothing but worry. What sort of message could this man possibly have for his grandfather?

Roma motioned for him to edge closer. "You have my attention, young man. What is the message?"

The mandid not do as requested, he stood his ground and remained in his position. His smile was wide like that of a child misbehaving at school, throwing chalk at a teacher behind her back.

"You can call me Gilbert." He smirked, bowing slightly in mock politeness. When he straightened up his expression was smug. "My message is this: my boss says he can take whatever you throw at him. The town is the prize for the victor, the loser leave the city. You have a fight on your hands, Mr Vargas, congratulations."

Lovino could not help but gasp loudly at his words, his head pounding suddenly. It seemed more like a declaration of war rather than a simple fight, but both were just as terrifying. Surely his Grandfather would not agree to this? It was madness. He thought for one minute the older man might explode, his face turned a furious red and his hands clenched together at his sides. Even Viktor moved himself so that he could hold him back if he lunged, but the cogs were working in his Grandpa's head, so fast he could almost see them. It would not do to show annoyance or anger which would only be reported back to Gilbert's boss with a mocking laugh and a smirk similar to the one he was wearing as he watched his internal struggle. It would make them seem weak and above all Lovino knew his Grandpa hated being seen as weak. Like a train releasing steam he let out a long breath and seemed to deflate, all of his anger morphing into an expression of pained acceptance.

"Gilbert, did you say your name was?" Roma asked in mock politeness. The other man nodded. "Thank you for conveying the message from your boss. Tell him from me I accept."

Lovino's world dropped away a little so he hardly heard his Grandfather encouraging Gilbert and his friend to stay at the party and enjoy themselves, nor did he register when the man was swallowed up by the other guests as he did as asked. He stared at his Grandfather's face, so familiar yet suddenly so very alien. He knew the man had done bad things, today was proof of that, but he had not believed for one minute that he would agree to something so stupid. A war with the other group? An official battle for the city was nothing akin to petty stealing. It was death. It was torture. It was dangerous for them all.

Lovino knew what would be expected of him, but what about his brother? Would Feliciano be dragged into the family despite his best efforts to keep him safe? He saw he would be powerless to stop it if it was ordered and the thought made him feel light headed and dizzy. For a moment he thought that he would pass out as the world around him turning fuzzy but then his vision cleared while determination set in his mind. He needed to stop this before it got out of hand. He was part of the family now wasn't he? He had some sort of say, surely? He could not allow this to happen.

He pushed himself free of Antonio, who was busy looking down at him in worry, and hurried towards his Grandfather who was in conversation with his men. He was in a bad mood, his expression returning to fury the longer he spoke.

"Sadiq, keep an eye on that man." Roma was saying to the stranger as Lovino charged towards them. The man's white mask was low but it did not cover up his mouth which was framed permanently in a grin. His costume had a hood which was thrown up so that he could not see his hair, but his skin was dark and tanned. "I don't trust Braginski as far as I can throw him. He might have sent an assassin amongst us."

"Sure thing, boss," Sadiq agreed. Lovino opened his mouth to jump in quickly but at that moment heavy dark eyes rested on him and Sadiq's grin widened. "Aren't you cute? This your grandson Roma?"

His Grandfather looked over at him as though just remembering he was there, the previous anger returning to his face so that he looked disappointed. "Yes, this is Lovino."

He opened his mouth again to speak but the Sadiq cut across him once more. "So this here is our future boss? He looks a lot like you, must be a real chip off the old block, eh?"

Lovino did not like being spoken about as though he wasn't there, it reminded him too much of him being a child. He was surprised when Heracles, who was always so very silent, suddenly piped up.

"He is trying to talk you know so shut your fat mouth for one second and let the kid speak, why don't you?" It was the most complex sentence that he had ever spoken, and quite loud at that. The usually silent and calm driver gave Sadiq a look of pure loathing. Lovino had never seen him so angry before. The two of them stood apart but the animosity between them was like a wall, poor Roderich was caught between it and backed away quickly as Sadiq turned on Heracles as though his words were like a lance of hot iron.

"Why don't you mind your own business you cat loving freak?" Sadiq shot back with venom. The two of them faced each other, leaning forward threateningly and totally oblivious to their surroundings. Viktor sighed in annoyance as though he was used to their bickering while Roma's face turned even more annoyed.

"Would you two let it up for five minutes? _Che palle_!" Roma threw him his hands in frustration as the two of the grudgingly stopped their arguing, for the moment, glaring at each other from the corners of their eyes and their lips turned up in discuss. With a growl, his Grandfather turned his sights on Lovino who was stood waiting by his side. "What is it Lovino, can't you see I'm busy?"

Lovino didn't really want to talk about such a matter in front of his Grandfather's men but he knew it was now or never. This whole thing could be stopped while Gilbert was still at the party, he had to try.

"Please, Grandpa, don't rush into anything with the Russians." He tried to keep his voice even but it faltered slightly at the thundering expression rising on Roma's face like dark clouds on a horizon. He ploughed on regardless, thinking only about his brother and the dead stares of the men his Grandfather owned. He couldn't let Feli turn out like that. "I think you should reconsider, the man is still here you can-"

His hand shot out and grabbed his wrist before he could finish, gripping so hard that he felt the bones click together and he gasped aloud in pain. His Grandfather turned politely to the gathered men, his expression neutral as he attempted to keep his calm although his face was turning progressively red.

"Excuse me gentlemen, my grandson and I need a word in private." He forced out politely before turning on his heel and half dragging Lovino in the direction of the kitchens. He did not struggle but he did look briefly back to see Antonio move to follow, only to be held back by Viktor in a sudden conversation. Their figures disappeared behind the wall of people and he lost sight of them as Roma pulled him forwards.

They charged through the crowd, attracting as much attention as the hosts could but were not stopped as they had been at the beginning of the night. People seemed wary to approach them because of his Grandfather's dark expression and they were left alone. They made it from the staircase to the buffet tables, bypassing a waiter on his way out of the kitchen they rounded the door into the sweet smelling room where the last of thetrays of food waited for someone to take them away. It was darker in the kitchen in comparison to the glaring light of the party in the lobby, and less smoky too. It took a moment for Lovino's eyes to adjust to the gloom and he stumbled over the threshold of the door as it closed behind them. The music and chatter of the people was cut off as the door shut and almost instantly Roma rounded on Lovino. His wrist was still in Roma's hand and he shook it violently as he spoke as if to gain his attention.

"How dare you question me? What do you mean by it?" He shouted. His face was not far from his own and he tried to back away but his Grandfather's hold on his arm restricted his movement and he was yanked closer despite his efforts. Flecks of spit speckled his face and his breath filled with the smell of acidic wine burned warm against his face. "Do you not understand what that message meant? Braginski is threatening our family Lovino, he is threatening you and me and Feliciano. Everyone that you love. Do you not see why I have to fight him?"

"You shouldn't have to fight." He recalled the young man Lukas, and his dead brother. He felt the loss like it was his own and it gave him strength to argue with the man before him. For his brother. "People die in these fights, innocent people. They will be hurt."

"That it the _point_!" His Grandfather growled, renewing the strength of his hold. Lovino refused to cry out in pain but he could not stop the tears as they pricked at his eyes. "Stupid boy, wars are won by fighting! Not by talking things over like women! These people don't work like that. This city is mine, and mine alone. I am not about to allow some upstart to waltz in here and take away everything I have sweated and bled for, do you understand me? I can't understand why you have to be such a hindrance all the time Lovino, do you want this family to succeed or not?"

His voice had risen dangerously at the end. It was a surprise no one had come to investigate with the racket, surely someone could hear them over the music. Lovino still could not allow himself to drop the torch now, his Grandfather just needed to see his point that was all.

"I don't think we should-"

"We? We?" Roma's other arm lifted so that his hand was resting dangerously close to his neck on his shoulder. The grip was tight and allowed him to force Lovino to back painfully into the counter behind him. A piece of cutlery that had been left on the side clattered to the floor and with a grating sound of metal on stone, was sent across the room, kicked by their flailing feet. Lovino was struck with how tall his Grandfather was, and how powerful he still was for his age. He could barely move and his hand gone numb, the counter cutting into his back.

"You are not in charge yet." Roma said, his voice was still loud but dropped now he was closer. "Do not tell me what to do Lovi, I do not like it. This is my business, you are merely an associate. Never assume to tell me what to do again, I will not tolerate it."

An empty feeling of confusion touched him with its long fingers around his heart. He felt lost; his grandfather praised him for taking part and grew moody if he took no interest. Yet with such a crucial matter he had no say? It seemed unreasonable more than anything.

Roma took in his confused face and seemed to relax a little, releasing Lovino's wrist to slide his to slide it up to his cheek where he circled thoughtfully as his golden eyes watched. Lovino's mouth felt dry and he wasn't sure what to say. He wasn't to protest more but his reaction was starting to make him doubt his own conviction. His Grandfather knew what he was doing right? He would not let anything bad happen, he couldn't.

"You don't understand," Roma hummed gently. His nails dug in a little to his cheek but Lovino did not dare interrupt him. "Braginski is a bad man and he would take all that I own if I let him. He killed your parents, he tried to kill you. He will try to attack me again and I have to stop him, for this family, for you. Always for you."

Under his grasp Lovino grew uncomfortable and tried to shift a little but Roma's fingers dug in like claws into the delicate skin of his shoulder and drew him up so their nose touched. The movement was so sudden that he was left blinking in disarray, his heart pounding in his ears. There was a deathly silence in the room, he could make out a few distinct voices in the party now and the cheer from the audience as the band changed tune to one more cheerful and bouncy. His grandfather's eyes did not move from his face as he bore down on him, their foreheads knocking together painfully.

"Do you not want to avenge your parents?" He asked, his voice a low and dangerous 's words had left him, leaving him stranded for an answer that would appease the older man. Roma was starting to hurt his neck and he was sure the nails gripping his skin and making tears form in his eyes, were leaving little welts carved in his cheek.

"Do you not want to protect your brother?" At the mention of Feliciano everything came back to him.

"Y-yes, of course." He stuttered.

Of course wanted to help Feli, that's what he was trying to do. He didn't want anyone else to die. Couldn't the two go together? Why did he have to give up numerous souls to save a single cherished one? Life without his brother would hollow him out, he would become like Lukas with his dead eyes and his need to find salvation in drink. He could not live like that with no escape. He did not want to become a monster either. "Please, Grandpa don't do this, reconsider this war. Please."

His Grandfather pushed him violently away from him that he rebounded off the side, painfully bashing his back and jolting back forward, only to be grabbed again by his grandpa. One hand roughly caught the material around his neck; the other pulled back his hair roughly making him hiss in pain.

"I have told you Lovino, and you will do as you are told." He snarled against his throat, his voice barely above a hiss and his burning breath tickling his throat. He was so very close and sweat beaded on Lovino's forehead in panic, he tried to shift away but the movement pulled the hairs on his head and he stopped with a whimper. "This is my business. You are mine. I give you orders and you follow them. This war will happen whether you like it or not, and you will play your part."

Abruptly, the door to the kitchen opened letting in the racket of the party which was steadily increasing as the night went on and the booze travelled the room. People where cheering, having fun and shouting as the danced and talked, the music getting louder and faster. When the door opened there was a swell of sound and then the silence was once more broken by their unsteady breath. Lovino could not turn his head to see, his Grandfather glanced in the direction of the door and his eyes narrowed as he turned them back on to his face.

"What is it, Antonio?" Roma grumbled. Reluctantly he let go of his grandson's hair, keeping his hand tight on his shirt front. Lovino was able to turn his gaze in the direction of the door where his bodyguard waited dutifully, his hands behind his back like a gentleman. His expression was painfully neutral as he bowed slightly.

"I'm sorry to disturb you sirs but there's a call for Mr Vargas in his office," he explained. His voice was clear and even across the silence of the room and seemed to cut between him and his Grandfather like a knife. The older man's hands twitched on his clothes, annoyance flickering across his features.

"Can't it wait?" Roma snapped, barely looking in the Spaniard's direction who shook his head apologetically.

"I'm afraid not sir, it sounded very important. Something about a hotel I believe. Viktor is keeping them on the line now."

With a tremendous sigh of irritation, his Grandfather let his hands drop from their hold and Lovino slumped against the counter weakly. He had not realised his knees had been shaking and now they knocked together, so much so that he had to hold onto the counter for support. Roma looked down on him with his lips pressed together and for a moment Lovino dreaded the impact of a rough slap to the face but then the older man's features softened. He leant forward and pressed a kiss to his head instead.

"Look what you made me do Lovi; I didn't want to shout at you." Roma whispered without moving away, probably so that Antonio couldn't hear but the room was quiet and even if he had heard something he didn't change his expression."But you have to learn. I know what is good for you, you'll see, you don't-"

"Sir." Antonio interrupted briskly. "The phone call."

Roma gritted his teeth but relented, scowling he turned his head in the bodyguard's direction. "Yes, yes, I'm coming. One minute."

He wrapped his arms around Lovino in a quick hug, pressing him to his chest forcibly without asking. It was crushing and painful but it was filled with emotion and he could not break free from it. He felt smothered.

"_Ti amo_, Lovi." His Grandfather purred into his ear.

For an agonising moment Lovino was not sure how to respond; his tongue had seized up, the words sitting on the edge of his mouth tentatively before escaping. "_Ti amo, Nonno_." He responded in a cracking voice.

Satisfied, his Grandpa straightened up and turned to leave. His expression still glaring and dark, fleeted before Lovino's vision briefly, and then Roma was gone on his way to the door, leaving him alone by the counter. He said he loved him but his face said otherwise. Was he still mad? He wanted to call out and ask him but Antonio's presence stopped him. He knew he had overstepped his position a little bit; of course his Grandpa knew what he was doing, he knew nothing. He should have never said anything.

He felt conflicted, half of him stupidly still wanted to argue, the other part was screaming at him to shut up. The two sides waged war in his head with no real victor.

The door closed behind the older man with a thump, leaving Lovino and Antonio alone in the room. The Spaniard's face seemed frozen with indifference, but when he looked closer there seemed to be something more to his expression that he couldn't quite pick up on. He didn't like it, it confused his already troubled mind even more and he turned away, not wanting Antonio to see him. Instead he faced to the window and the garden outside, focusing on the scene before him. The moon shone on the garden and lit it up like a scene from a fairy tale, everything shining beautiful and silver in the darkness. Beyond the garden wall were the glaring lights of the city, burning on the horizon. The party was really loud now, he almost dreaded going back out into the lobby. He doubted he could take much more of the atmosphere; he simply wanted to crawl into a corner and not come out until it was done and his head was in order.

"What did he say?" Antonio's voice called to him from his position in the doorway. Lovino set his shouldersand tried to focus on the garden instead of the crushing disappoint he felt towards himself at the words.

"He said no." He replied tersely. Silence followed, broken only by the sounds from the other room and then the gentle clip of shoes across the tiles as the bodyguard made his way towards him. He stopped just on the scope of his vision but did not touch him. Lovino surprised himself by almost wishing he would, the comforting weight of another person's hand on his own would be enough to remove the feeling of utter misery that was starting to spread in his heart. It was like it weighed down in his chest and made it hard to breathe. Tears burned his eyes and blurred his vision but did not fall. To rid himself of them quickly he ripped off his mask, throwing it onto the side and rubbed his eyes as though tired.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Antonio asked softly. Lovino's mouth opened of his own accord at spat out words before he'd even registered the words.

"I don't want a war." He shook his head violently as if he could shake himself out of this horrible fingers ground into his eyes as if he was trying to gouge them out of his own head. "I know I should, they killed my parents but people will die for this one city and I..."

He took a shaky breath and could not finish. Somehow he did not need to, his unsaid words hanging in the air like the smoke from the party. There was a sigh beside him and Antonio's hand reach out tentatively to touch his arm comfortingly, no matter how much he wanted it, the familiar urge to shake it off erupted. He let it stay in the end, the need for reassurance triumphing.

"You are not a bad person, Lovino." Antonio said quietly. Lovino removed his hand and turned to look in his eyes and found within them no lie, instead their green was bright and determined. He wanted to believe him, he truly did but he felt worn out and drained by the whole affair. He wanted nothing more than what he had wanted all evening, to leave the party and return to his room. All this fuss for nothing; he hated it.

"Thanks I guess." He grumbled. He stood up straight and heaved a deep breath, knowing that despite his own desires he would have to return to the party sooner or later, he could not hide in the kitchen with his bodyguard forever. People would think something was wrong with him; it was bad enough his brother was dancing with his own bodyguard. He moved to slide past Antonio. "Come on, let's go back out there."

"Oh, wait a second!" Antonio stopped him before he could dash off, catching his hand and turning him around to face him. Heat rose in his face and he felt a little confused but it seemed he only wanted to adjust his clothes that Roma had pulled into disarray. Antonio smiled as he worked, tucking back in his shirt and straightening his tie. Lovino would have normally shouted at him for treating him like a kid but it was nice to let someone else look after him for a change. But then Antonio licked his hand and attempted to flatten his untidy hair and he pulled a face.

"That is disgusting." He complained, pushing him off. Antonio chuckled lightly and carried on regardless. "Would you stop that? I don't want your spit on my head thanks. It's gross."

"It's only spit." Antonio argued smiling. Lovino pouted but it only made him laugh harder. "Honestly Lovi, your face is really red right now. I only wanted you to look your best but now you look like a tomato!"

The words were not really helping his stress levels and he scowled, pushing off the laughing Spaniard with one irritating shove. "Shut up, bastard. And stop laughing!"

But Antonio only laughed more at the insult and to the ever increasing red tinge to his own warm cheeks. Against all his best wished, Lovino could not help but smile a little too. The man's behaviour always made him forget the bad things, sure he could be a moron but it took his mind of stuff. Wordlessly he stormed to the door, knowing the other man would follow right behind him, and exited back out into the lobby.

He had been right to think that the drink had started to take its toll on the guests. The guards from the doors had left their posts a while ago and were now doing the alternate job of taking people out rather than letting them in. As he watched a man was taken out between two of the men, held limply like a ragdoll. A few of the girls were playfully swooning onto the men in the corner by the band, flirtatiously squealing in delight when they were caught, their short hair flashing around in the light. The crowd was a lot thinner than it had been before, most of the people had gone or been thrown out, but the sound was no longer the polite murmur of voices but the raucous clatter of the band and inebriated shouts. If anything it was worse than before and he groaned aloud.

Lovino had barely taken two steps from the door when a figure hurtled from the nowhere, he have smashed into him if Antonio hadn't have stepped in front of him, grabbing the man by the scruff of the neck so he could not go any further. He instantly recognised the pale blond hair and dark blue eyes, it was Lukas. He looked as if he should have been taken out of the party a long time ago, his legs struggling for purchase on the ground like a deer on ice when Antonio set him upright. His eyes struggled to focus on them and put eventually he must have seen through his drunken haze, his eyes focusing blearily on Lovino.

"You." He slurred, pointing a threatening finger in Lovino's direction and attempting to stumble towards him but his legs toppled him into Antonio once again. The bodyguard pulled a face. Lovino watched wide eyed as the man struggled towards him; his words however much slurred stinging through the air. "You, you killed my brother-"

"Lukas, stop that!" Mathias burst from the same direction the other man had come from and quickly grabbed him before Antonio let him topple to the floor in disgust. The taller man smiled in their direction, his eyes panicked and revealing the expression to be false. He seemed guilty if anything. "Sorry fellas, he's had a little too much. I'm gonna take him home now."

"No," Lukas protested as the other man pulled his arm up and over his shoulder to haul him away. He squirmed to get to Lovino but he didn't get far before his limbs gave up on him and he had to be pulled upright; Antonio still stood resolutely in front of him as though he was a danger, yet try as he might he could not stop the words reaching him. "He killed him, don't you see?"

"You shouldn't let him wander around drunk like that." The Spaniard noted angrily. Lovino was surprised by his tone of voice, he'd never heard him angry before and this was a new development. He was so used to happy Antonio, but this Antonio seemed something entirely different; it seemed the stress of the day was taking its toll on him too. He doubted he would normally be so snappy, especially with a guest. His eyes were livid as they watched the man before him struggle with contempt. "He's liable to upset someone. There are important guests here."

Mathias did not get to respond as Antonio had pulled Lovino close and steered him across the room away from them before he could open his mouth, Lukas shouting drunken abuse after him. A pair of workers stormed in the direction they had just left, their coat tails flapping indignantly as they charged forward to remove the disturbance; Lovino could not help but feel relieved. Lukas' comments had struck a chord somewhere and now he felt rotten. He was half tempted to order Antonio to tell his Grandpa he wasn't well just so he could go to his room but he knew that would not be allowed; he would be dragged kicking and screaming back into the lobby until the guests were mostly gone. The music and the dancing suggested they weren't quite ready to do that yet.

Antonio steered him all the way across the room and into the living room, pushing past everyone who got in their way. It was quieter in here; people seemed to have congregated to this one spot for the sole purpose of smoking and chatting quietly through the hazy air in the room. Lovino coughed and scowled, it was usually such a nice room. They didn't use it much but he was fond of it. It would take ages to air out the cigarette smell from the furniture. And the mess too, glasses were scattered on the surface and drinks spilled on the floor. Luckily the carpet had been removed otherwise it would have been stained. He knew he was finding fault with everything but he couldn't help it. Damn, he hated parties.

Antonio noticed his sullen expression and bent slightly to look in his eyes concerned. "Are you okay? We can go to a different room if you-"

"Lovi!" Came a voice and for the second time that day Feliciano barrelled into him as though he had not seen him in years. The attack threw him off balance and he found himself stumbling towards the floor, he would have fallen down but a hand halted his descent. He looked up, half expecting Antonio but instead he found himself meeting dark solemn eyes set within a pale face.

"Master Feliciano, you should be careful with your brother." Kiku scolded, his tone stern. He was wearing a white suit and no mask; as though he had just wandered in from the street, but he seemed at ease enough with his brother and Ludwig. He let go of Lovino as if scalded by the touch and bowed slightly. "My apologies for touching you Master Lovino, I didn't want you to hurt yourself."

Feeling confused at the action he nodded in reply, thankfully distracted from any awkward conversation as Feliciano began brightly chattering away to himself, jumping up and down in front of him and peering into his face eagerly. "I'm sorry Lovi; I just wanted to hug you again. You looked so sad even though it's your party. Although these days you always look sad. Did something happen? Are you okay? I know, do you want a drink? Drinks make everything better, I'll go and fetch us all one, be right back!"

Before any of them could say anything in response Feliciano darted from the room, disappearing through the door and into the lobby much to Ludwig's displeasure who moved to follow him with a growl, a vein pulsing in his forehead. Kiku seemed to notice the danger of the situation, namely the bodyguard having a premature heart attack, and stepped in.

"I will go, Mr Beilschmidt. He will need an extra pair of hands to carry the glasses back." He said quickly, hurrying after Feliciano before the blond could disagree. The party must have been a nightmare for Ludwig; his brother was such a social creature he would be flitting from person to person without a care in the world. Not to mention he had probably been drinking alcohol which would make him even more annoying. Lovino knew from experience how bad his brother could get under the influence of alcohol. He was like a bad rash you couldn't get rid of.

"How you holding up?" Antonio asked Ludwig with a raised eyebrow. The other bodyguard shook his head in distress, his blue eyes wide and worried despite his anger.

"I have no idea how one person can have so much energy but still struggle getting out of bed in a morning." He wondered aloud as if begging some divine force to answer his question, or solve his problem. Lovino chuckled, partly at the bodyguard's distress and partly because of the truth of his words. He had often wondered about the enigma that was his brother, but he had learnt not to question it a long time ago. Antonio laughed at Ludwig's response, his eyes brightening up a little behind his mask. His laugh was like a drug, so very addictive Lovino wished he could hear it again, it was bright and filled with everything that was him. It was special and with each tone it took him further away from his problems. He found himself staring at the bodyguard, his eyes lingering on the way his hair was becoming more dishevelled as the night wore on, the chocolate coloured strands curling in on his neck despite the liberal amounts of pomade he must have used.

His brother skipped back into the room with drinks in his hands, breaking Lovino's train of thought with his appearance, Kiku following after him also holding drinks. They were not alone, a familiar figure walked behind his brother languidly, grinning at them ear to ear. Lovino's breath caught in his throat at the sight, all the blood drainingfrom his face.

"Guys, this is Gilbert!" Feliciano sang as he stopped before them, handing out the drinks. Antonio tensed up which was unsurprising, the Russian mobster was not a friendly sight in any case. His smirk, uncovered now he had discarded with his mask, was way too smug and Lovino did not like the hand that he had placed on his brother's shoulder in what he supposed was a friendly gesture. It made him was to charge forward himself and wrench the younger boy from his grasp. Red lights of warning flashed in his head.

But he was surprised when beside him Ludwig gasped as though he had been punched in the gut, staring open mouthed at the man before him with anger and hurt. It was similar expression to the one Viktor had pulled earlier and Lovino had a sneaking suspicion the two events were related somehow. His suspicions were confirmed when the bodyguard grounded out a strained "You!" under his breath.

Gilbert laughed as Feliciano looked confused, his wide eyes flicking between Ludwig and the other man as if attempting to see the connection written in the air. "Do you two know each other?"

"I'm afraid we do, Feli." The nickname was butchered on his tongue. He had a vague accent, very similar to the one that Viktor had for his homeland in Germany, the slight inclination on the 'e' murdering the word right before his eyes. Lovino was not fond of the potato eating bodyguard of his brother's but he tolerated him because he was good at his job and kept Feliciano out of trouble. This man he did not like. All the dislike he had for Ludwig was nothing in comparison to the feelings he had towards this guy. He did not like the way he was touching his brother. He did not like the way he said his name as though they were friends. He was the enemy and they were at war now.

Oblivious to the angry faces directed at the other man, Feliciano seemed to brighten at the words. "Great! Then you are already friends? That's good."

"Something like that." Gilbert chuckled. His gaze fell on Lovino and his lips curled slightly. "I believe this is your brother. We've already met; hello again little Mr Heir."

"Get out." Lovino demanded. He could not take it any longer. It was taking all his will power and Antonio's calming hand on his arm to stop himself from lunging at the man and pounding his face into the ground. He wasn't generally a violent person. While he was prone to making threats he never carried them out, but with this man he could make an exception.

But Gilbert only laughed as he removed his hand thankfully from Feli's shoulder to put to his face in mock shock. "But your Grandpappy asked me to stay! And I am enjoying this lovely party. Pretty rude kid, pretty rude. Not awesome at all."

Again with the kid. He fumed at the word that he hated so much. He was not a child; they must have been about the same age, dammit! This was his house and he would not allow someone to speak to him like that.

His brother looked upset at his words, his eyes widening sadly. "But Lovi, that's not nice. He's a guest."

"No, he's an interloper." Lovino snarled in response, not taking his eyes off the other man's that seemed to be goading him into doing something. The smirk was starting to get on his nerves too, nerves which were already frayed from the day in general. He either needed to get out of the room or the other man needed to leave. Antonio tightened his grip warningly on his arm but he barely noticed it any more, he pulled slightly to shake him off but the bodyguard's grip was resolute.

Feliciano's eyebrows lowered suspiciously as they glanced around, finally taking in the sour expressions on the others faces. The hands that were holding his drink lowered a little bit.

"What is going on?" He demanded, his tone stern. Kiku who had been silently watching the exchange for a while finally spoke up. His expression was concerned as he jumped into the conversation.

"Master Feliciano, how about you and I go and get some food?" He tried to attempt a conversational tone but it sounded false even to Lovino's ears. A surge of respect for the quiet man sounded in Lovino's chest, he could see the direction the conversation was leading to and wanted to remove his brother from the situation. It was a good plan, unfortunately Feliciano was having none of it and shook his head, his amber eyes finding his bodyguard's with fire.

"Ludwig, what is this about?" But Ludwig didn't seem able to answer. A muscle in his neck twitched and he seemed to be putting all his strength into not grabbing the other man roughly and forcing him out of the room. Lovino had never seen him look so angry, it would have been actually quite scary if he hadn't have been so riled himself. If Ludwig would have removed Gilbert he would have picked up the man's feet and helped to throw him out onto the curb.

Getting no reply from his bodyguard, Feliciano turned instead to his brother for answers. "Lovi? Tell me. What is going on?"

He was saved from answering by appearance of the young man who he had seen with Gilbert when they had arrived. He entered the circle of people carrying two drinks in his hands, Gilbert sighed dramatically.

"Looks like we're no longer welcome, Birdie," He faked a hurt tone but the smile on his lips ruined the image. Pressing his hand to his forehead he pulled a face as though he was sobbing. "We have been cast out by the little master of the house."

Lovino took the dig badly, turning red in the face at the words. He had never encountered someone quite as irritating as the man before him; he seemed to know exactly where to push him to gain a negative reaction. His antics did not seem to be impressing anyone else either; Ludwig seethed and both Antonio and Kiku looked weary of the situation. Even the young man went instantly on edge; he made a low whistle with his mouth that sounded like a warning. Gilbert only smiled wider.

"Nah, everything is okay." He responded to the young boy's low note as though it had been a sentence, leaving a tinge of confusion in Lovino's bubble of answer. What the hell was that supposed to be? Gilbert took the drink from his helpers hand and sipped in delicately. "I'll leave after my drink, no worries."

He did not like it but Lovino could not argue with that. He had been invited by his Grandfather and if anything he did not want to anger him, which he was sure he would be if he found out that Lovino had been rude to one of the guests; even this one. Besides it was only one drink; or at least he thought that until Gilbert sipped it and left it with barely anything taken. He felt a vein of frustration pop in his head and had to pinch his lips together so he would not scream out in annoyance.

"So," Gilbert grinned, smacking his lips together pleasantly. The sound was grating on his ears and he gritted his teeth together in irritation. "What's the big occasion for such a party? A birthday or something?"

"This is Lovi's coming out party." Feliciano said. His voice was sullen and there was still a mistrustful air to him but he answered the question anyway. Feliciano sipped his own drink politely and Lovino remembered the one in his own hands, he didn't really want it but he swallowed it quickly to get it out of the way where in bubbled in his stomach and left a bitter taste at the back of his throat.

Gilbert laughed raucously at the words. "I thought girls had coming out parties!"

Lovino swallowed his anger as Feliciano giggled at his mistake. "No, no. I meant for the business."

"That's right; our little man here is going to be a big boy soon." Gilbert responded patronisingly. There was a smirk on his face as he spoke that boiled his blood. Antonio's hand gripped his arm tightly as the Spaniard pulled a sour face. "He looks so much like his Grandpa, but so much more cuter-"

He reached forward a hand and pinched one of his cheeks playfully before anyone could stop him. Lovino was not sure what it was, whether it was the drink in his system, the constant taunts or the general stress of the evening but at the touch he saw red. There was a shatter and a shout, then a blinding pain in his head but still he surged forward to grab him. Gilbert's goading face was the only thing he could see in his mind's eye and he charged for him, shaking off the hands that grabbed him and ignoring the yells in his ears. The blood pounded in his head as his fist closed around something and he lifted the other one to punch, but he had lost his momentum and he was pulled back. Whoever it was picked him up easily around the waist and pulled him into the air, ignoring the kicks and the lashing out as he screamed for release until his throat was hoarse.

The red from his vision clear a little. The scene was a bad one, Gilbert was sat up on the floor and holding his nose which was profusely bleeding onto the tiles. Somehow in the turmoil they must have pushed through into the lobby where it was brighter and clearer, and people were staring at them in shock. There was only a buzzing in his ear as he panted; his own heavy breathing was the only thing Lovino could hear. In front of him; Ludwig's mouth moved as he yelled at the man on the floor with Roderich emerging from the crowd and attempting to hold him back as Kiku stood to one side, reluctantly letting Feliciano sob hysterically onto his shoulder.

The red of the blood shone brightly on the tiles and Lovino's head throbbed slowly where he had smashed into Gilbert's nose. All the energy leaving him suddenly like a flame snuffed out in the wind. If he was not already held up in someone's arms he would have dropped to the floor with fatigue. As it was, whoever they were, felt him droop and placed him gently on the floor.

"Lovino?" Antonio's voice seemed to come from far away. The presence at his back shifted as the bodyguard moved around Lovino to look at his face. His own face, usually so tanned was pale in shock and there was a pink scratch on his face. With a jolt of remorse Lovino realised he must have been the one to mark him like that when he was thrashing around and trying to get at Gilbert. Unable to look at the scratch he found himself looking past Antonio. His hearing was coming back now and Ludwig was still shouting wildly in German at the man on the floor. Gilbert looked up at him with dark eyes, letting the words wash over him with only a scowl in response. By his side the one he called Birdie crouched, tentatively reaching out a hand to his face which was still bleeding and starting to swell.

"_Du hast uns verlassen_!" Ludwig yelled, pushing against Roderich who was muttering calming words that had little effect. Ludwig had managed to pull a hand free and pointed accusingly in Gilbert's direction. Lovino was shocked to see such a display of anger was marred with bright tears which dashed down Ludwig's red cheeks. "_Warum bist du hier_?"

Gilbert did not answer but rubbed the back of his hand slowly across his face, smearing blood all up his cheek. His gaze fell on Lovino and he felt sick at what he had done. He had let his anger get the better of him and had acted rashly. Now what was going to happen? Surely his Grandfather would hear the commotion and he would be punished correctly for his actions. He dreaded to think what he would do when he found out. The rest of the guests that were left watched them with interest, although some looked cautious in case the fight would break out again. Even the band and stopped and were peering over the crowd from the stage with wide eyes. Lovino could not blame any of them. Ludwig looked murderous and had taken to just yelling at the butler to release him. Roderich somehow managed to keep him in check, using his height to an advantage to hold the younger man in place.

"Lovi?" Antonio asked again looking concerned at his lack of response and dazed expression. His head hurt a little but apart from that he was fine, a lot better off than Gilbert anyway.

"I'm okay." His voice sounded weak and tired, mirroring how he felt despite how much he tried to stop it. The Spaniard's eyes glazed once back over him, noting how what he said was true and then hardened in resolve. Without a word he stood up and walked slowly and purposefully to stand in front of Gilbert. The room feel into such a hush that Lovino thought his hearing had gone again, but the gentle clip of the bodyguard's shoes against the tiles told him otherwise. Even Ludwig fell silent as he turned to watch; Feliciano had stopped crying and tearfully watched his approach.

Antonio stopped a foot or so in front of Gilbert, looking down on him with an unreadable expression on his face. Gilbert looked back up defiantly as if daring him to come any closer, the young man beside him doing the same.

"Your boss has a hard head." Gilbert commented, his tone conversational as though they were chatting over tea. The hush of the room was oppressive. "He can look after himself if you ask me."

"I will give you a minute or so to remove yourself from this house, Gilbert." Antonio replied, his voice deadly and cutting in the quiet of the room. His hands shook at his side, bunched into fists like he wanted to strike out but he restrained himself. "But after that I will throw you out myself. You have come in here and threatened my friends and I cannot allow that. You have to leave."

"Your 'friend' was the one who head butted me, 'Toni." There was a smirk under his words, like a snake hidden in the grass; Lovino could almost see its tail flickering out of the corner of his vision. He stared onwards, a horrible feeling settling in his stomach at his familiar term. How could Gilbert know Antonio's name? He hadn't used it around him. Suddenly the look of shock earlier that he had seen on the Spaniard's face became all so clear.

Antonio shook his head and pursed his lips together in a fine line of anger. Everyone watched as he seemed to control himself and rein in his anger before answering. "You were asking for it. Now get out."

Gilbert huffed and stood up unsteadily, the boy at his arm helping him to his feet. "Fine," he snapped with irritation as he straightened his suit. "I can see where I'm not wanted."

With a flap of suit tails he turned harshly, the crowd parting before him like the red sea, each of them wanting to get away from him and his bruised face. Feliciano watched them go for a second before calling out, "_Arrivederci, _Gilbert, Miss Birdie!"

His brother was an idiot, that guy was not a woman...

"Master Feliciano I don't think that's a..." But Kiku trailed off at the same time Lovino noticed, or truly noticed Birdie.

The way the 'boy' walked was a sway. His lithe figure, more like that of a female, was only partly hidden under the disguise of a man. If anything the way that both 'he' and Gilbert stopped and stared back at his words in horror was answer enough. Looking at those dark eyes it was hard to see how he could have ever seen them as anything but a woman. The tenderness they had when dealing with Gilbert injured on the floor; the black eyes then had held something he was unused to seeing, real love. The other guests looked confused but Lovino saw, as did the others whose eyes widened in confusion and surprise.

"Come on." Gilbert ordered after the pause and together they hurried towards the door as if escaping. This new fact only added more confusion to the situation and Lovino groaned from the floor; could his day get any worse? And here he had been thinking everything would be fine.

Roderich had gone to sort out the band and they were back to making music, albeit a less lively tune than before, probably winding down for the night. Without anything to watch people were heading back to their business and the drink.

A hand appeared in front of Lovino's face and he looked up to see Antonio stood waiting, his expression troubled but for him it seemed he would always be smiling. He took the hand and stood up as Ludwig, Kiku and his brother walked over. Ludwig's eyes were fixed on the door above the heads of the guests as if seeing if Gilbert would return. Their connection was obviously not a small one but he had bigger problems right now in the form of his bodyguard.

But before he could even say a word on the matter Antonio had an answer already waiting for him. "Remember when I said someone offered me a job on the boat? That was the man. I had no idea what he was involved in, I'm sorry."

Antonio did sound as though he meant it and his expression was pitiful, almost imploring him not to get mad. Lovino was shocked to find he wasn't. He just felt more exhausted than ever and now his head hurt. He knew couldn't have got mad even if he wanted to. He just nodded silently as Feliciano reached out a shaking hand to place on Ludwig's own drawing his attention back into the room with a jolt.

"Are you okay? Who was that?" Feliciano sounded softer than normal, almost scared. He shook slightly as if cold and his eyes were a little too big behind his mask. Ludwig looked away, his voice filled with raw emotion as he tried to hide his face from their eyes but Lovino saw the glitter of unshod tears before he could shield them from view.

"He was my brother."

**oOo**

**Translations:**  
><strong>biscuit- slang for good looking woman in the 20s<strong>  
><strong>mio amore- my love<strong>  
><strong>Nonno- Grandfather<strong>  
><strong>Ciao- Hello<strong>  
><strong>fratello- brother<strong>  
><strong>Che palle- according to google means 'this sucks' but I have a feeling it's worse than that somehow :') basically a curse<strong>  
><strong>Ti amo- I love you<strong>  
><strong>Du hast uns verlassen...Warum bist du hier?- You left us... what are you doing here (or at least it's meant to say that. Google translate *shakes fist*)<br>*Edit* Thanks for Fake of Hypocrisy for the correction :D!**  
><strong>Arrivederci- Goodbye<strong>

**Blargh so big... My beta and I were laughing at this chapter because of the stress it was giving me. Basically it was like 'jesus, take the wheel!' the whole way through. But I did enjoy writing it. A lot, probably too much to be honest. What with Roma being all Lion King 'this is my kingdom... that dark part in Antonio, you must never go there' and the headbutting jokes. I may have wet myself once or twice. Thank you to my lovely beta for putting up with this chapter and kicking me into gear.**

**So let me know what you think and stuff :) I'll get the next chapter up asap but for now I'm going to sleep... and do my essay -_-**  
><strong>Love my dears~<strong>


	23. The Gold Rush Hotel

**Next chapter~**  
><strong>It's a lot smaller than the last one (obviously) but in terms of the story this is the last 'filler'. My beta says it's not a filler but it is in my head. So nerr.<strong>

**It's actually the last filler for a while, getting to the juicy stuff now ;D  
><strong>

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed last time :D It meant a lot after all the work I put in.**  
><strong>We're so very close to the 150th now! I hope it goes over with this chapter, hate for it to be stuck just before xD Good luck to everyone!<strong>

**I keep forgetting to put up the designs for the costumes last chapter :I Scanner problems but I'll let you know when they're up.**

**Hetalia is not mine.**

oOo

"This way, Lovino." Roma instructed as he strode through the large open doors of the hotel, the back of his blue silk suit straining on his shoulders as he held them open briefly for his grandson before carrying on in. Lovino scurried to follow him from the car, holding onto his hat so it would not fly off, his Grandfather's stride was purposeful and he struggled to catch up with him. Antonio trailed behind him at a distance, further behind him was Roderich who was busy locking up the car. The day was warm, bright and blue but when they passed through the double doors and into the lobby of the Gold Rush Hotel the temperature dropped considerably, a breath of cool air ran up Lovino's spine and he shivered briefly, only to stop and stare in awe a moment later at the room.

He had known that the hotel was one of his Grandfather's more lavish ones he owned in the district, but he had not expected the size and grandeur that met his eyes. His neck craned upwards at the sight of the staircase, lined with golden railings and paved with a rich, burgundy carpet that headed up stairs and out of sight, most probably towards the many rooms for the guests. Arched doorways, surrounded by elaborate mouldings, led off from the stairs onto the corridors above. The sunlight from the open doorway gleamed off the floor which was made up of perfectly polished tiles that squeaked as their feet skidded across the surface.

"Lovi!" Roma called from the other side of the room, snapping him back into reality. He had not even seen him cross it he had been that engrossed with the room's appearance. He realised he had been staring around like an idiot, much like Antonio next to him who had his mouth open and was gazing around the room with childlike awe.

"Coming!" Lovino responded, shaking his head and hurried to follow the older man who was disappearing through the double doors on his right, he didn't like to be kept waiting. Viktor paused at the door, holding it for them to enter, his cold eyes watching them at they approached with Roderich in tow. The glare the bodyguard shot the butler was surprisingly one of annoyance but he allowed them all to pass into the next room without a word.

If Lovino had been awestruck by the lobby he was struck considerably more by the second room. It was much larger, more of a ballroom in size with warm wooden walls. There were tables spread across the distance of the floor, each one made up with delicate napkins and shining cutlery, a candelabra set in the middle of each gleamed in the daylight. At night time the room would smoulder with the tiny flickering flames, but as it was the light was coming in clearly through the cut glass roof. Lovino felt his jaw drop as he looked upwards, around the window the ceiling had been painted stylishly with wreath and flower designs that surrounded the glass, each leaf expertly done to perfection. The ceiling almost breathed.

The room was being cleaned when they entered, women dressed in black maids outfits flitted between the tables, straightening glasses and adjusting chairs. They were preparing for the guests that would be coming down for the midday meal. The only man amongst them seemed to be in charge, he was tall and slim; his hair which was slicked back looked as if it had but up a bid to escape at some point and the strands near his forehead were stood on end. As Lovino watched he moved his hand to push them back down but to little effect and they stood up again.

Roma, who had paused to wait for his grandson by the door, strode forward to meet the man who caught sight of them and shooed the maids away in order to greet his guests. The smile on his face was welcoming and calm as he opened his arms in welcome.

"Mr Vargas, good to see you!" The man called as they approached, manoeuvring their way around the many tables with difficulty. He had an Australian accent. "You got my message I suppose?"

The phone call his Grandfather had received last night was been important it seemed, important enough that he had to come himself and sort the problem out. Lovino looked at the stranger before him, attempting to size him up; he did not seem like a bad man, in fact he seemed quite nice. His dark green eyes were completely at ease, the only thing off about him was a plaster taped over his nose, surrounded by dark bruising as though someone had punched him in the face. The thought reminded him of Gilbert and he bit his lip.

"Of course Kyle, of course." His Grandfather smiled. He took the man's hand in his own and shook it, the other man returning the gesture with enthusiasm. Roma turned to face Lovino, motioning for him to come forward which he did. "This is my grandson, Lovino, the one I was telling you about."

"Will you look at that! You two are the spitting image." Kyle commented, thrusting his hand forward towards him. He winked at him and grinned. "Good man your Grandfather, Lovino. Nice to meet you, name's Kyle."

He took the hand in his own, yelping in shock when he was pulled into a friendly, bone crushing hug. He could feel the other man chuckling vibrating through his chest and Lovino was sure his face was bright red when Kyle let him loose. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Antonio's barely restrained discomfort at the contact and he visibly flinched when the man slapped Lovino on the back joyously with a laugh, so hard he lost his balance for a second.

"Well then!" Kyle laughed, turning back to Roma who looked patiently at him. "Shall we get going?"

"Please." Came the response. With a nod the Australian lead the way towards the back of the room, leaving them no choice but to follow. Antonio, who was trying not to smile at the put off expression on his charge's face, placed his hand on Lovino's back and steered him onwards. Lovino scowled but did not shove the man off, too busy looking at the doors in front of them. The dining room was spilt off from the next room by long wall, spilt in the middle by a large, arched glass door. He could imagine on nights where there were parties in the hotel that men would stand on guard by the sides of the door, ready to open them for the guests.

"It's very pretty isn't it?" Antonio commented softly as they passed under the arches. Lovino had to agree, it was excessively lavish, even more than their home was. And definitely beautiful, he had never seen something so classy and could only image how much a night in this place would cost. Even for him, who had lived a life surrounded by luxury, this was pretty high market; he could only image how Antonio must have felt. The bodyguard had grown up on a farm after all. His eyes were wide as he took in everything, a small smile playing on his lips as they entered the next room.

It was similar to the previous one although more cosy, the roof was not as vaulted and it was much plainer. The light came in through the windows rather than the ceiling, Lovino could see a small patio garden outside beyond the balcony which must have been part of the hotel for people to sit outside. There were no tables in this room, it was empty apart from a mirrored wall that ran the whole length of the room on the left. What on earth could they want in this room? Where they meant to be checking their reflections or something? Lovino was confused at what it was they were meant to be looking at. All was explained however when Kyle reached into his trouser pocket and brought out a small key, reaching the mirror he inserted the device into a barely visible opening in the wall. There was a click from within, and with a hand against the mirror the hotel worker pushed to reveal a dim opening. Antonio gasped aloud.

"A secret passage." The bodyguard mumbled in hushed tones. Roma rolled his eyes but Kyle heard him and turned around with a sly wink as the older man and Viktor headed down the stairs and into the gloom.

"Sure thing," the worker said as Roderich hurried past him with an upturned nose. He allowed Lovino and Antonio to go down afterwards, still chatting to them as they stepped into the passage. It was not as lavish in here, in fact it resembled the servants quarters back at home with its concrete walls, a grey under shell hidden behind the gold trappings and fancy furnishings.

"This used to be an extra storage area, the maids would keep their cleaning supplies and extra chairs down here for safekeeping." He explained, coming into step beside Lovino. The hallway was big enough for two and lit bright enough so that they could see where they were going, ahead a warm light shone showing them the way down the stairs. "But it was a pretty big space and was going to waste really. What with the hidden door and everything it made the perfect room for our purposes. Your Grandpa had the idea, of course."

Lovino was starting to see how this all worked. A elegant hotel, open at nights for fine dining and parties. The people would eat and dance and have a good time, yet only a few would know what was really going on; and only these would be able to get into this room.

"Double security." He said aloud, his voice echoed off the walls much in the same way that the sound of their footsteps did. "Get past the men at the glass doors, then get into this room? That's pretty clever."

Roma laughed, the sound bouncing back to him. "That's my boy. That is exactly how this establishment works, that way no undesirables can get in and no police can find their way to it. It's perfectly hidden."

They stepped out into the room below. It was bigger than Lovino expected but looked exactly how he envisaged, bare brick walls and dark wooden surfaces met his eye. There were no windows in the low room and low overhanging lights rocked gently at an invisible breeze. There was a small stage for a live band to play on on one side of the room and on the other side was a well stocked bar with stools set out before it. The air had a lingering smell of alcohol and tobacco which only added to the effect.

Kyle tutted loudly as he looked around the room, apparently searching for someone he could not see. "Now where's that blighter got to? Carlos!"

A dark head poked its way around a small door behind the bar, his eyes widening as he took in the guests. He eased his bulk out of the door and stood in place behind the bar. He was a large black man, his thick hair was pulled back in a ponytail in an attempt to keep it out of his eyes. He wore brightly coloured shirt which exposed the massive muscle of his arm, bulging from underneath the colourful material. From one side of his mouth dangled a cigar which he removed to speak, putting the chewed end in his breast pocket.

"Mr Vargas, good to see you." This must have been Carlos. He did not hold out his hand for his Grandfather to take but merely nodded politely, keeping his eyes carefully averted from his face. He held a cloth in his hands which was polishing a mixer of some kind.

"Lovino, I need to check the stock in the back room with Kyle here." Roma said without acknowledging the greeting. He took Lovino's hand and gave it a small squeeze, rubbing his thumb across his knuckles as he spoke. "Would you like to come with me or stay here?"

He had been brought along to the hotel to see the business, that much he knew. Lovino was sure his Grandfather wanted to show him the building so that he would want to be involved more, it was surely better than what he had expected. If you squinted you could barely see where the law was being broken. Something like this wasn't too bad, in fact it was right up Lovino's alley. From working with the books the name of The Gold Rush hotel had popped up a lot, they were one of their bigger incomes.

Yet he was not sure what mood his Grandfather was in, he could never judge it well. After the night before he was wary of doing anything to upset him further. The scene with Gilbert had gone unnoticed, none of the guests had mentioned it and the staff were all too close to Lovino to rat him out to his Grandfather although he had a suspicion Ludwig had told Viktor about his so called 'brother's' visit. His mind was still reeling about this new information but he had pushed it aside to spend the day with his Grandfather.

He decided to risk it. "I'll stay out here Grandpa, get to know the bar and everything. I don't want to be in your way in the stock room."

He resisted the urge to breathe a sigh of relief when the older man nodded in understanding, pressing his lips once to his hand before letting him go. "Roderich," He ordered with a click of his fingers. The pale man had been gazing, wide eyed around the room but at the demand he jumped a little and looked over. "You come with me and Viktor, I might need some assistance with the boxes. We'll be right back, Lovino."

With one final smouldering look in Lovino's direction his Grandfather was gone along with the three other men, leaving Antonio, him and Carlos alone in the bar area. There was an awkward pause as the dark man turned his back on the room to clatter amongst the bottles. There was a lot behind the bar, all different shapes and sizes and varying shades of gold; he was struck by the variety, to think it was all illegal was astounding really. He had to admire his Grandfather's business, it worked like a well oiled machine. He should have been proud to be part of it.

Antonio smiled at him before sitting himself at the bar like a customer, grinning widely as he swung his long legs through the air between himself and the floor. "_Hola, mi amigo_! How come you aren't going into the back room? Surely those big muscles of yours would be a lot more use than our butler's little arms."

Lovino had to admit it was true, Carlos looked as though he could lift an ox. They were lucky if Roderich could carry their laundry some days. The man glanced at the bodyguard in confusion, looking as though he was acting strangely by talking to him but then he shrugged.

"Mr Vargas does not want me in the back room unless I'm fetching the booze to make drinks. I believe he thinks I will get up to mischief." His brown eyes were cautious as they found Antonio's own, on guard but questioning at the same time. "You're Spanish then, eh?"

"_Si! Yo vivo cerca de Carcabuey_." The Spaniard responded, his accent rising and falling like a song. The darker man raised an eyebrow at his response but his lips quirked upwards in amusement.

"_Mi madre era espa__ñ__ola_." Carlos replied, leaning against the counter as Lovino sat himself on a stool beside Antonio, watching the exchange with interest. The bodyguard would often say the odd phrase in his own language but he had never really heard him speak Spanish in a sentence. He liked the way it rolled off his tongue and fit him like a good glove.

But it was short-lived, he switched back into English again, most likely for Lovino's benefit. He thrust his hand towards the man with a friendly grin. "It is nice to use my mother tongue again, thank you Carlos. My name is Antonio, this is Lovi."

"Lovino," he snapped in correction, also holding out his hand for the other man to take. A brief look of confusion and surprise crossed his features before he enclosed his slim digits within his own, meatier hand. "It's nice to meet one of my Grandfather's employees. What is it you do exactly?"

He wasn't very interested in all honesty, but he knew he should ask. He needed to be more involved with the business and it was a start. Carlos smiled pleasantly as he held up the shaker in his hands.

"I'm the barkeep down here. I mix the cocktails and serve the guests." The look on his face was content as he looked around the room, his little domain in the dark. He snapped back to reality with a grin. "Would you like to try some our cocktails, Mr Vargas?"

"Sure." He agreed and the other man got straight to work, whistling as he pulled down the bottles he would need. Their clinking sound was cheerful and light hearted. Lovino found himself turning to Antonio who was watching him, a dozy expression on his face.

"So what do you think? Nice place, isn't it?" He asked. In front of them Carlos was putting what appeared to be leaves into the mixer, adding to them water and some white powder he could only assume was sugar.

"It seems like a nice place, yeah." He said, watching with a slight trepidation at the forming concoction. The bartender was adding crushed ice from a bowl into the mixer, sloshing on its surface a generous slash of bourbon. He then closed the mixer and began shaking it, his hairy arms rising up and down at the movement.

"Your Grandfather hasn't brought you here yet, Sir?" He asked while he shook. The noise of the cocktail maker made it so that he couldn't answer until the man was done and had placed it safely on the side while he fetched glasses.

A slight blush rose to Lovino's cheeks at the words. His Grandpa probably would have brought him to the hotel many times before if he had not been so reluctant, it was his own fault. It was a nice place and he could see himself working here. "I was usually too busy to come." He lied.

The man nodded in understanding as he poured the mixture into glasses, it was a pretty topaz colour that caught the light from overhead and shone brightly. The leaves floated to the top, actually looking rather nice now that the drink was complete. Carlos set a glass before Lovino and Antonio and stood back to allow them to take in his work. The bodyguard quickly took up his own, Lovino's movements were more hesitant as he brought the glass to his lips. With Carlos's watchful gaze on him he felt obliged to sip at the drink, it was better than he had expected. The bourbon was sweet and the leaves, which he now knew to be mint, added just the right amount of a tangy kick.

"This is lovely." He commented while Antonio nodded his approval. "What is it called?"

Carlos's large chest swelled with pride. "A mint julep. They sell very well down here, we can barely get enough bourbon to supply demand if I'm honest. All the best joints sell them these days."

Lovino stared thoughtfully into his glass, wondering at the price of something so simple. Some of the more complicated drinks must cost a lot, what sort of person would pay that for a drink? It seemed positively insane but it was how his family earned a large proportion of their money.

And it was safe, he reminded himself. People did not usually die in this side of the business. Then again the war with the Russian's was over the city, and the rights to deal in it. Namely with their biggest income of alcohol. His Grandfather had not mentioned Gilbert's declaration all morning and didn't seem to be about to start, it made his stomach turn. He did not want to be left out of the loop in this, if things were happening he needed to know. He had a feeling things were moving behind the scenes, much like the bar hidden away in the hotel which put of an elegant front only to have this darker underside when the gold was peeled away. His Grandfather was the same, for his own benefit he would pretend nothing was wrong or nothing was going on; he wanted Lovino to be involved but then he hated telling him what was going on. It was frustrating, he could have helped- somehow.

His train of thought was halted by his Grandfather's return who was chatting happily to Kyle, Viktor and Roderich following, shooting daggers at each other as though they intended to damage one another with their stares. Lovino had not really noticed before then that the two of them were on edge beside each other, invisible sparks flying between them. It was a new development, they weren't usually at odds. Viktor was the one who ordered the household but he gave the butler free reign most of the time, there was no reason for them to be arguing. He wondered how long it had gone on for and if anyone else had notice. He chanced a glance in Antonio's direction who was watching the two servants with a small frown tugging at his smiling face, he caught his eyes and a flash of understanding flickered between them and he turned away. It seemed his bodyguard was being perceptive again.

"Ah Lovino, sampling the drinks?" His Grandfather chuckled, rubbing his grandson's back fondly. Carlos shied away from the counter and busied himself with clearing away the bottles he had got out. Lovino nodded.

"Carlos offered to show me some." He explained, throwing a small smile in the bartenders direction which he didn't seem to notice. "How was the stock room?"

Roma looked mildly surprised at his interest but very pleased. "There was a problem with some of the shipment but it's sorted now, Kyle just needed my approval before moving things that's all."

"Always safe to check with the boss, just to make sure I'm doing what he wants." Kyle said, tossing back his head to laugh as he slapped Lovino on the back again making his drink, which he had lifted to his mouth, slosh onto the counter-top. No one seemed to notice, nor did they notice Lovino's irritated scowl.

"Come now, Kyle." Roma chided with a large smile, waving his finger in the air like a scolding teacher. "You could have moved the stock if you had wanted. This is your hotel."

Lovino felt very confused, he had though the whole building belonged to his Grandfather, not this man. For one he did not seem very business minded, he was not at all like the older man who lived and breathed business. The Australian, catching his confused expression, elaborated.

"You see, I'm merely a very privileged caretaker of the establishment." He explained. "My father made his money in the gold rush down Oz, he spent it hard and fast and he ended up dragging the whole family to America to start a new life away from the debt collectors. He bought this hotel with the remaining money, it was always his dream to run a big fancy place like this but the life was harder than he thought. That's where your Grandfather came into it, he offered to be a business partner meaning we still own the hotel but he does most of the management."

"I've been a little run off my feet a lately," He admitted with a laugh, subconsciously rubbing his nose. "What with my brother running out on me and all the new customers it's been hard to keep track of things. Since my father's death, your Grandpa has been a big help."

Roma smiled, leaning casually on the counter. "I do what I can, Kyle."

He opened his mouth to respond but he was cut off by the sound of the clatter of approaching footsteps on the stairwell and the next second a young woman swept in. She was wearing a pretty peach day dress that reached to her knees with a bright blue headband over her dark hair, a matching bag swung off her arm. At the sight of all the men in one room she blushed, looking surprised. Lovino stood up on her entrance as did Antonio but Roma and Kyle did not seemed shocked by her sudden appearance in the room and did not react. Feeling a little foolish, Lovino sat back down, tugging Antonio's sleeve to make him do the same.

Her dark eyes focused on their faces a little more and she composed herself, clutching her cardigan to her chest with one hand while gripping her bag tightly with the other. With the light clip of feminine heels she made her way across the room towards them. "Mr Vargas, what a pleasant surprise."

She held out her hand to the older man who took it and brought it to his mouth in a kiss. "Markita, my dear, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I came to talk to Kyle," she said. Reluctantly she turned to the other man, looking a little put out that she had to talk to him in front of all the people. "I was wondering if you would hire me for a job; a dancer, a waitress, anything. I want a proper job that pays well: sorry Mr Vargas."

The woman must work for his Grandfather then, doing what he could not tell and he didn't particularly want to know. Markita was a pretty girl, and the pretty ones had a variety of uses in this business. Kyle seemed reluctant to answer, sharing a strange glance with Roma before shrugging.

"You know that's not up to me," He said. He looked guilty and refused to look directly at her and her widening eyes that glistened with tears. "I don't manage the employment, Markita. I just do as I am told and nothing more. I'm sorry."

"But you're my cousin!" She said with a disbelieving shake of her head. The hand on her jacket was white at the knuckles with the force she was holding onto it. Lovino was touched by her display of emotion and looked to his Grandfather to gauge is reaction; he was watching the conflict with interest but did not seem to want to get involved. Lovino did not like how this might turn out so he jumped in quickly to save the poor girl.

"What is it you do for my Grandfather?" He asked. The young woman looked at him as though she had only just registered his presence in the room, her eyes widening as they took in his features and their familiarity to Roma's. She swallowed before answering.

"I work as a distraction," Her voice was subdued but there was a hint of dislike to her tone. "I keep the attention away from what's really going on. I didn't mind it, I would do anything to help Mr Vargas after he saved me from the streets but since the _incident_ I've been thinking. I don't think I can do it any more. I want a job where I can be safe and settled, please."

Her voice had rose in previously restrained anxiety towards the end. Lovino couldn't be certain but he had a feeling that the 'incident' she was talking about was the accident where Lukas' brother had been killed. Her eyes that looked up at him, pleading him, were wide and full of horror. She had seen things she would have rather missed and he felt guilty for his Grandfather's sake. The people who worked for them needed to be looked after, if he had to take that job he would.

His Grandfather seemed to notice the expression on his face and raised one eyebrow. "Lovino? What do you think?"

Then again having the livelihood of one person on his hands was pretty important. "Erm, well..." He mumbled, not sure where to start. He caught sight of Markita's wide eyed expression and beside her Antonio who smiled in encouragement. His resolve strengthened a little and he found the words.

"I don't see a problem with letting her work in the hotel." Lovino said measuredly, remembering to be polite to his Grandfather which was always more persuasive than getting annoyed. And after his outburst last night it was safer to keep on his good side. "She works with the men collecting the goods, right? I don't think the Russians would fall for the same trick twice Grandpa, she would probably be more useful here. It gives her a job and makes her helpful at the same time, Kyle said he'd been swept off his feet, she could help him out."

Roma considered the input, his eyes hard as they looked down at him, the thoughts connecting in his head until finally he smiled. He reached up a large hand and patted Lovino on the head with a proud smile.

"You'll make a good boss yet, Lovi." He said before turning to Markita. "You may work here with your cousin, dear. But this is your only chance, after that I will have to put you back into use within the business."

She shook her head at his words, a hint of triumph lighting up her eyes as she gushed her thanks and made arrangements with Kyle as to what help she could be around the hotel. With his part done Lovino retreated from the conversation, moving to stand away from the business talk and by the bar.

"That was very nice of you, Mr Vargas." Carlos commented, looking a little astonished at his actions. Lovino felt his cheeks burn at the praise.

"It was nothing-" He started but Antonio jumped in.

"You didn't have to help her." The bodyguard kept his voice low so their conversation did not attract attention which he doubted it would anyway, Roma and Markita seemed to be in deep discussion over jobs and pay. The look in the Spaniard's eye as he spoke was one of pride and the red in his cheeks grew at the knowledge. He fought so hard for approval from his Grandfather that he never expected to get any from his bodyguard as well. They were two opposite poles with different beliefs, he could not please them both at the same time and the older man always came first.

"It was nice of you to care, Lovino." Antonio continued. He placed his hand on his shoulder with a grin. "That girl needed your help and you gave it."

No matter how pleasant it was to have the arm on his shoulder he flicked it off with mock irritation, trying to hide the growing smile on his reddening face. "Because I'm not an idiot, get off me."

Antonio opened his mouth as though he wanted to say something more but the sudden appearance of Roma at Lovino's shoulder caught him short.

"Lovi?" He purred, taking his shoulder and kneading it in what he assumed was meant to be a comforting gesture. "I think it's about time we headed back to the apartment, Feliciano will be getting worried. Poor boy, all alone and sick in bed, we shouldn't leave him too long."

He resisted the urge to scoff, sick? Hungover more likely, he had drank more that was good for him at the party. After the head butting incident Lovino had escaped to his room to 'cool off' whereas his brother had stayed to enjoy what was left of the drinks. By the sounds of the clattering passing his door as he lay awake in bed and the voices that accompanied it, his brother had been carried up the stairs to bed by the ever faithful Ludwig. And by the sounds coming from the bathroom that morning it seemed the night had weighed heavier on him than he probably thought it would. Serves him right.

Still he nodded. "I'm ready to leave whenever you are, _Nonno_."

Roma smiled at him briefly before turning to Kyle, interrupting his talk with Markita. "Kyle, I am leaving now, is everything in order?"

"Yes, thank you Mr Vargas." The man replied as Lovino stood up, heading in the direction of the staircase. The hotel manager stopped him with a loud laugh and a hand on his arm. "No, no, Lovino. That's not the way out, it's over here."

Feeling a little confused and embarrassed at his mistake, Lovino followed the retreating back of his Grandfather and the trailing figures of Viktor and Roderich towards a door on the other side of the room, half hidden amongst the dark panelling. When the blond haired bodyguard opened it for his charge he let in the sounds and smells of a large kitchen; Lovino was immediately shocked by the sights, he had not even registered the presence of the other room beyond this one and the sight was a shock. The hiss and steam of the lunch preparations were well under way in the chrome covered room. No one batted an eyelid as the door opened from the bar, and no one said a word when they stepped out into the room, completely in the way of the cooks.

"You'll come back one day, Lovino?" Kyle asked. Behind him Markita stood aloof and proud, but with a happy smile lingering on her lips at her new prospects. Behind them, still stood at his post behind the bar was Carlos who chanced a small goodbye wave in their direction.

He could see himself working here. It was no war, it was simple and easy. He could manage these people, they were friendly and kind. If he was going to be part of the family business he wanted to do something like this, he was sure his Grandfather wouldn't say no.

Lovino returned the smile. "Of course, Kyle. I will be happy to work with you in the future."

oOo

**Translations- (could be wrong-google translate :I Please tell me if they're wrong peoples!)**  
><strong><em>Si! Yo vivo cerca de Carcabuey<em>- Yes! I live near Carcabuey. (I was wondering where Antonio would be from and I settled on here. It's a little town and it has a castle, it's in the mid south. Google it if you're interested, it is very beautiful :D )**  
><strong><em>Mi madre era espa<em>_ñ__ola- _My mother was spanish**

**I wanted there to be a little shift of feelings here where Lovino is less reluctant to be part of the family? Hope it worked. If it didn't bleghh.**

**GUYS GUYS GUYSSS. I usually don't post adverts but my beta is writing a story for Hetalia you might like. It's called 'it's always like this' by rupzydaisy. It's a future AU and I'm betaing it :D It's a few one shots with two full length stories attached (still in progress) but it's very promising :D She's done Romano and Prussia for now. Please check it out :D She's the girl I've been doing the pottertalia with, the one who does it better than me :')**

**But yeah, I have a train to catch to go home for the weekend so much love :) Thanks for reading as always! Good luck with the 150th reviewer :D**


	24. Dirty Little Decisions

**Good god this took way too long. I've been busy with my essays which are eating my soul- again.**

**Quick messages- well done to WeDon'tKnowEnoughToUnderstand! They won the 150th reviewer oneshot. I will get a move on with that when I have finished the essays above. They asked for a Belarus/Belgium fic so it's going to be interesting :')**

**Gargh got so many anonymous reviews last time, I feel bad I can't thank you personally. What I will say is this: get an account people ;D You know you want to ;) and review all you like honestly! It makes my day, not annoying at all! :D**

**And just to let you guys know I've been looking at all your profiles, not because I'm a creepy stalker or anything (or am I...? :Y) but just to see where you guys are all from. It astounds me I have so many people watching this, from all over the world. I really want to thank you all and hope you stick with me until this is done :) Keep reviewing and giving me feedback, I love them all :D I will probably be doing more one shot gifts later on in the story so keep them coming. Sorry to anyone who didn't get it but better luck next time :D**

**Disclaimer: Hetalia does not belong to me.**

oOo

With a heavy heart Roderich stepped lightly out of the car and looked up at the towering apartment that was his prison. It was a bright and oppressive day, the sun baring down on them; the windows of the building were dark and almost like the many eyes of a spider. The family hurried to get back into the house where it was cool as a rattled Heracles came out to take the vehicle around back to park. The driver had spent the day with Sadiq, showing him the ropes under the boss' orders and he didn't seem to have enjoyed it, his usually calm expression shattered. He seemed annoyed and pushed past Roderich to get to the car, using so much force that he stumbled. The butler scowled at the action, half tempted to say something but thought against it knowing that the driver's anger was probably appropriate. The newcomer was a distasteful man and the two of them seemed to have some sort of history prior to when Heracles got his job with Mr Vargas. Roderich did not know what it was but they were clearly not fond of each other.

He followed Roma and Lovino up the steps to the house, watching as the elder man's hand firmly gripped the younger's shoulder. He kept a respectful distance between them and their bodyguards. Roderich's head buzzed full with the knowledge of the location of the speakeasy. He knew that the police would kill for such information, anything to bring Roma down would certainly be a step in the right direction; after the harsh words and careless abuse at the hands of his so called master he was more than inclined to call the police up straight away and get it over with. Roderich had known about the speakeasy by name for a long while just not its location, he could have sold it to them before but he had needed the information of the place to be valid. Roderich had thought the bar would be hidden and the day had given him the perfect opportunity to check if his assumptions had been right. He hoped he hadn't looked too pleased to be asked to help out where he usually would not have the chance, locked up in the house. He burned with the need to call the police and prayed he would get the chance soon, hopefully today, to call them and inform.

The quicker the better right?

That was of course easier said than done. Roderich was working all day, everyday and he could not just sneak off to the phone at any time he liked; he had to keep up appearances and perform his duties. He also had to be careful who was watching him, even Elizabeta could not find out about his new position without risking her and the baby by association. Viktor's eyes were on him constantly, he had said nothing to him since the party but only sent him warning glares from the corner of his pale eyes which Roderich ignored. He would not fall for the bodyguard's tricks. Informing was the only way out now. He knew precisely what he was doing, and he didn't need someone else interfering with his business.

The doors to the apartment opened and they stepped into the cool air. The cold marble of the floor held no heat and their footsteps clattered on its surface like they were walking on ice as they stepped through the door. They were all surprised to find Feliciano hovering unexpectedly near the kitchens, talking to someone within from the doorway. A blanket was wrapped around his shoulders and his face was wan, almost grey. Roderich resisted the urge to smile at the younger Vargas' antics. The previous night of drinking was clearly still in his system, he was still in his pyjamas and his bed head suggested he'd only this minute crawled out of his pit in search for the food which was being cooked. There was a savoury smell on the air, the chicken soup which Elizabeta made whenever someone was sick.

Feliciano's features formed into a half smile when he saw them, the smile not quite meeting his eyes as it usually would.

"Grandpa, Lovi!" His usually loud voice was subdued and his tired eyes rimmed with red. He turned towards them slowly, almost in a stumble. "Did you have a nice time? Did you get everything sorted at the hotel?" Even his questions were restrained, sticking right to the basics instead of the usual onslaught.

Roma instantly rushed to his youngest side to fawn over him, patting his head like he was greeting a pet. Roderich was repulsed to the pit of his stomach by the action. "Yes and yes, Feli. How are you feeling now? You look terrible!"

"A little better." The youngest Vargas answered quietly. "Elizabeta had backache from the baby so I sent her to have have a bath. Ludwig is warming up the soup she left out for me to check if my stomach is okay to eat again. I hope it is, Elizabeta's soup is always good. I was looking forward to the pasta tonight as well."

Feliciano gave a sad sniffle as Lovino rolled his eyes just out of Roma's vision and spoke in a low voice to Antonio by his side. The Spaniard grinned at his charge's hushed words and winked knowingly. Roma did not seem to like his eldest being left out of the conversation and signalled for him to draw closer, Roderich was probably the only one to see Antonio's lost expression as he watched him go across the room like he was losing him for good; his hands twitched uselessly at his side for a moment before stilling and the the happy expression was back on his face. It was not the expression he had come to expect from a bodyguard, but then again his only models were the German men who never seemed fazed by anything. Antonio seemed the sort of boy to live on his emotions and in this business that never went well. He wondered now long it would be before he broke.

Ludwig appeared at the doorway as Antonio edged a little bit closer to Lovino. The blond was wearing an faded pink, frilly apron of all things and fell into deep in conversation with Viktor on the correct temperature for soup which the older man answered calmly. The Vargas' were absorbed around Feliciano. No one spoke to Roderich, no one even acknowledged his presence. Suddenly he was all but invisible without even noticing and his chance arose much earlier than expected; if he didn't take it right away he would be losing a perfect opportunity that were few and far between. He had to take it now.

Silently he sneaked across the lobby floor, making his steps even and measured even though he wanted to run but if anyone did see him now there would be questions. As it happened no voice called back to stop him and slipped through the door unnoticed, hurrying down into the shadowy depths of the basement. He tried to mask his steps but it was close to impossible, the sound bouncing back agonisingly loud from the concrete walls. He cringed, surely they could hear him? But no footsteps followed and he made it to the corridor. Roderich struggled to open his door with his quivering hands but he was soon through and into the silence of his room: no one was there. He needed to do this now, he would be missed otherwise. His breathing hitched loudly as he crouched over the phone. With a shaking hand he picked up the dial and started to ring, a small voice in the back of his head telling him he was being too rash and he should wait; but the receiver was already ringing in his ear and before he knew it someone had picked up.

"It's Roderich." He said as soon as the dial tone stopped and the click of the voice recorder sounded for him to start speaking. He would be wasting precious seconds with idol chitchat. "I'm reporting in."

"Go ahead." Vash's voice was calm and clear, he wished he could feel relaxed at the situation as his police man did. Then again Vash had always had a cool head. "The recorder is on. What news do you have?"

"The party." Roderich blurted out, deciding to get that information out of the way first, knowing it was what the police expected. He had promised to tell them about it after all. "It didn't go so well. A man turned up wanting to speak with the boss, called himself Gilbert." Some rustling and mumbles as the police checked their files for such a man. It was a shame he had no name to go on, he faintly wondered if he should mention the possible relationship this Gilbert seemed to have with the family bodyguards but chose against it: there were other matters at hand a lot more important that the police needed to know about.

"A man named Braginski had sent him; it sounded like the Russian group in town were declaring an all out war on the Vargas's. Roma accepted the challenge."

There was a harsh intake of breath on the other line and loud swearing, not Vash but one of his co-workers. He understood their horror, a gang war meant that no one was safe anymore. They needed to put a stop to it before it got out of hand. Roderich hurried on.

"A man named Sadiq was a guest at the party, he arrived from out of town." He continued. He wished his heart wouldn't beat so loudly, he could barely hear his own whispers over its unsteady thumping. He could only worry they were catching everything. "If Roma called for him like I think he did then nothing good will come from it. It means he needs more men and with this war on it's clear why."

There was more rustling and hushed whispers; they sounded excited, pleased almost at the amount of information they were getting like it was gold. He could not imagine what it must have felt like to be that way, to view the situation with excitement rather than fear. To him this knowledge was like poison, rotting him out from the inside. Only Vash was silent, his steady breath over the receiver calming as he waited for his next words. Roderich released a heavy sigh.

"And there's something else." He stopped. He thought he heard a noise behind him, the creak of a door, footsteps and he swerved to look but the room was as empty as before. Sweat bedded on his forehead and a foul taste lingered in his mouth as he turned back to the wall, unable to keep the shake out of his voice and his hand, the receiver bouncing so much he had to use both hands to steady it so it wouldn't slip to the floor. "I saw it, one of his bars."

Even Vash seemed surprised at this, his intake of breath was much louder than the excited yell that rang out from the policeman's side of the phone. When he spoke his tone was concerned.

"Roderich, you didn't-?" He left the question hanging but the butler got his old friend's meaning.

"No, I didn't put myself in harms way. In fact Roma asked me to help him for the day." He couldn't help but bite out a laugh at the irony of it. The first time in a long time that he had been allowed to work out of the house and earn extra pay and he was ratting his boss out at the first opportunity. God he was scum. "He had to sort out a shipping problem, he took Lovino along to show him off. The Gold Rush hotel, there's a speakeasy hidden just past the breakfast room through the mirror wall. You might be able to get in through the kitchens too, there's an exit through there."

If they stormed the hotel it would only be a matter of time before they caught Roma right in the act, he'd be all over the record books and surely someone would be able to report his consistent presence in the hotel. From there it would be easy to catch him, he had to believe that for his family-

A cough sounded in the doorway. "Roderich?"

He yelped in panic and threw down the receiver, spinning around on his heel to see Elizabeta framed in the doorway. Her hair was dripping and down to its natural length, the long locks curled over one shoulder. She wore a faded pink floor length dressing gown that had once been her mother's and now showed her growing bump through its folds. A confused frown coloured Elizabeta's face as she stared at him, her thin eyebrows puckered together in confusion. Her dripping hair had left an increasing red stain just above her heart like blood was pouring steadily from her chest as the water darkened the material.

How long she had been stood there he did not know. How much had she heard? He swallowed loudly.

"Roderich?" Elizabeta asked again. Her green eyes darted to the phone and back to his face. There was a faint, demanding strain to her voice as she spoke. "What were you doing?"

He inwardly cursed himself. How could this have happened? Why hadn't he heard her come into the room? His wife had been in the bath, the bathroom was on this floor and of course she was not wearing shoes. That must have been it, she'd been able to sneak up on him easily. But that still did not tell him how much of the conversation she had caught.

"I was-" There were no words. The truth surged forward and he clamped his mouth shut before he could tell her and endanger her; he could not do it, not with the child in her stomach. The stress alone would be enough to cause damage to the unborn child. Roderich would rather die than allow that to happen. Her mouth pursed together and she edged further into the room as he squirmed, locking the door behind her. When she turned to face him her gaze was hard and full of fire, one hand protectively covering the bump at her midriff.

"Who was on the phone?" She asked with suspicion. He did not answer but moved to pass her, wanting to remove himself from the situation but she stopped him with a thin hand. So fragile, so beautiful, her dainty fingers clawed at his chest briefly as she pushed him back, her voice was full of anger. "Answer me, Roderich, who was that?"

"It was no one." He lied. Her eyes narrowed sharply with annoyance.

"It did not sound like no one," She snapped, a tremor in her voice. "In fact it sounded quite the opposite. Honey, please don't tell me that was what I thought it was."

Again he could not answer, instead he bit his lip to hold his tongue. Silence, it seemed was all the answer his wife needed, her eyes turning wide and horrified as she took in the sight of her husband as if for the first time. Slowly she backed away and placed a hand to her mouth, tears sprung into her eyes. She was always so strong, he had never been allowed to see her cry. The sight pulled Roderich out of his stupor and he reached out for her, to pull her close and explain but she slapped away his hand with venom, the long sleeves of her gown flying back at the movement.

Her gaze almost broke him. "Eliza..."

"No!" She snarled, seemingly trying to process this new information without launching herself at him. His wife could hardly bare to look at him she was so furious. A long nervous pause followed where she scrutinised him darkly, in the end she could only ask: "Why, Roderich, why? What could possibly possess you-?"

"You did, you and the baby." He knew his voice should not be shaking, he needed to be strong, but he could not stop it. It took all his willpower not to break down and cry instead of explaining his reasoning. It all felt so wrong, his face burned in shame at the hatred on his wife's beautiful face. "I'm doing this for us, don't you see? If I tell a few little secrets-"

"How could you?" She demanded stopping him short. She shook her head violently and groaned aloud. Roderich's thoughts went to the baby inside her, he should have not let her find out. She was meant to be kept calm and relaxed, it was stressful enough living in this house without him adding to it. He should have been more careful. "Don't you understand it won't work?"

"But the police promised-"

"You will go the same way as your father!" She snarled. Elizabeta looked at him and there was fury in her eyes, marred by pain and tears but her words stung. "My god, why couldn't you leave well enough alone? Don't you see we can't win here? We got off lightly by keeping the baby a secret and now you go and pull this."

Her words stuck a cord somewhere inside Roderich, they did not talk about his father and they hadn't done in many years. His father had died mysteriously one day, found dead at his post. There was no inquest, no investigation; just a quick burial and a small dinner. It was true, Roderich's father had been a sickly man but he had been well for many days before his death. The doctor that had done the shoddy autopsy had assured him that could happen sometimes but he could not lie to him, Roderich had seen the money in his breast pocket like a signal. His father had been killed and there was only man to have done it.

He had told Elizabeta, then just his fiancé, his thoughts and they had promised to bury it along with the older man. To bring it up now was like plucking Roderich's heartstrings with a knife and he snapped. "I needed to protect you somehow! I promised on our wedding day I wouldn't let anything harm you. If we carry on in this house we will be swallowed up by it, the baby too. Elizabeta, the more I tell, the closer the police can get to catching him! When he's caught all this will be over!"

"And what if you're found out?" She growled in response. His wife did not back down to the argument and defended herself much like a man, her independence was one of the reasons he fell in love with her but it did nothing for his confidence. He was the one who was meant to take control, now he just felt like some overgrown child, throwing his playthings on the floor. Pride would not allow him to fall so easily, he had to make her see.

"I won't be." He assured her. Viktor's behaviour crossed Roderich's mind for a second but he believed he was safe on that account. The bodyguard had no idea what he was doing for certain, he might have had assumptions but he would not go to the boss without proof. Viktor was a man who liked to do things properly. "I just won't. By the time they notice anything is amiss this business will be gone."

Elizabeta shook her head and threw up her arms in despair.

"I don't want it to take you with it!" She shouted and then stopped to draw a heavy breath, her green tearful eyes locked onto his own. With a shaking hand she reached forward to hold onto his labels lightly as she buried her head into his chest. She was shaking. "It will take you and it will destroy you. I can bring this baby up on my own but what is the point without you by my side? Please, Roderich, I love you. You have to stop this, before it is too late. Promise me you won't do it any more."

Tears rushed to Roderich's eyes before he could stop them and he pulled his wife in closer, stroking her hair with one hand. When he had started informing he had never really thought of the consequences, but now he saw them in all their glory. It was true, Roma could be caught and they would live happily ever after; but then again the opposite could easily happen. He was walking on a tightrope, and not only him but he was taking his wife and child with him. If anything happened to him they would surely follow, Roma would not allow them to stay after his betrayal. He imagined Elizabeta on the streets, one of the thousands, a weakly mewing bundle in her frail arms and hunger in her eyes.

God how could he have been so stupid? His mind had been fixed on glory and stopping Roma, hidden behind the mirage of the saving his family that he had forgotten the real risks here. It made Roderich feel sick. He was selfish.

The police could do without him, he had given them enough information to go on. If he disappeared off the map they wouldn't be too lost, leads went dead all the time. He wished them luck. The warm presence of his wife, clinging to him and needing him was all it took to set him straight. He could no longer act the hero. But then again, would they let him go just like that? The phone lurked behind him, its call was great but he resolved that it would be the last time he would use it to call out, but if they called him? He didn't want to think about it.

"I promise, Eliza." He hummed into her head, praying that this was one vow he would not have to break. "I promise..."

oOo

_The Anastasia_ rocked in its progress through the main of the river; the hulking, white bow of the private yacht tearing through the blue water like the edge of a blade across paper. It glided majestically with no particular destination, taking its passengers across and around the bay for their enjoyment. A light breeze fanned at their faces and the cawing of the gulls from the water's edge was the only sound apart from the light mutter of a record player within the boats gallery, set playing so that the people on deck could hear the songs and still have a conversation. Ivan enjoyed these times when he could be at peace with the world, the blue of the sky and the gentle breath of the river never failed to keep him calm and collected. He liked to see his sisters relaxing for once, Natalia with her feet up and sunbathing in the unusually warm air and Katyusha sat more modestly with her dainty feet on a stool, a book in her hands.

With everything that was going on in the business he had thought it was high time to pull out the old girl for a spin, _The Anastasia_ had been his father's pride and joy and he had not had the pleasure since of taking the yacht out since his death. It was almost nostalgic but that did not mean he would not have time for business.

"So," He purred as he stirred his cocktail. It was red, like blood, and it shone delightfully in the sunlight. Despite the heat Ivan wore his usual scarf which he moved with one hand to allow himself to sip from his glass. "What are your suggestions, Winter?"

Ivan's sisters, who sat beside him, both turned their gazes from their occupations to the man sat a little further away than was necessary. He was pale, especially so under the shadow of the umbrella, that his face appeared almost grey in colour. His head was covered in wispy dark hairs and a thick black moustache rested on his top lip like a leech. His cold eyes were darted around the ship deck but at Ivan's words they snapped onto him sharply and without mercy. Even Natalia, the braver of the two sisters flinched at his response, her hand reaching out instinctively to finger at the folds of the jacket beside her where she hid a knife at all time.

"Roma has our message, I presume?" Winter's voice was severe, like that of a general. The Great War had left its lasting mark on him like it had on so many others; many men were disillusioned by the bloodshed and scars yet the same number longed for the thrill of battle again, to taste the blood of war dripping from their lips. Winter was such a man. Ivan smirked, a man like him was hard to control but his father had tamed him back when they fought together, all he had to do was point the canon in the right direction and blow the fuse. He was a dangerous but useful ally.

"One of my men, Gilbert, sent it during the party."Ivan hummed, sipping his drink once more and cherishing the burning sensation as it ran down his throat. He smacked his lips in appreciation. "Roma graciously accepted. It's only a matter of time before one of us makes our move, and I do love to be first."

"Any signs of a insider yet?" Winter demanded. The Russian turned to his elder sister cheerfully and nodded as if encouraging her to speak. Katyusha jumped as if prodded and hurried spoke, placing her finger in her book to mark her page.

"We might have one," She said quickly, her voice weak and shaky. She avoided looking at the older man and instead aimed most of her words at her brother, her hands clasped tightly around the cover of her book, some silly novel with a face on it. Ivan did not usually approve of his sisters reading such fiction but Katyusha was silly anyway so he allowed it. "I sent the boys to check him out, they should be reporting in soon but I think he's a good choice. He has all the information we could ever need and a reason to sell it."

"He'll sell." The Russian assured them all out loud, smiling widely as he took another sip of his drink. He was always certain about these things. "So what do you suggest for Roma? I think we should send him a little present."

Winter's dark eyes narrowed hungrily like a wolf zoning in on its prey from afar, his lips twitching in a semblance of a smile. The promise of some bloodshed seemed to revive his interest and for the first time since stepping onto the boat he looked pleased. "What present were you thinking of? Something deadly I hope."

"I would like to think so." Ivan turned to his youngest sister, grinning widely as she looked at him without understanding his intentions, confusion crinkling her brow. "Natalia, I have a job for you. Do you think you could do it?"

Her pale eyes instantly went large and hungry; she eagerly pressed forward, moving from her lounging position to sit up like a child getting instructions for a new, awaited project at school. Natalia seemed to revel in the attention. She pushed her hand into Ivan's which he allowed reluctantly, his smile wavering a little at the contact. Katyusha watched the interchange with sad eyes but said nothing, her lips pressed in a fine line.

Natalia did not seem to notice her sister, her attention stuck fast on her brother with awe. "Anything. Brother, I would do anything, just tell me what to do."

He released her hand, patting it fondly as he grinned up at Winter quickly before returning to give the instructions to her. He knew how to deal with his little half sister, she was better kept on a tight rein but she was easier to handle when satisfied. "Natalia, how do you feel about getting Roma where it hurts? We have already discussed in great detail the lengths he has gone to in order to keep his boys safe. I think we need to deal with them, it will be a good way to show him who really owns this city. To show him all of his actions add up to nothing in the end."

Katyusha's eyes widened in understanding as Natalia translated the order in a calm voice. "You would like me to try to kill one of the boys?"

She seemed to consider it but then her face morphed into an ugly smirk as the ideas began to whir around in her head. She nodded. "It won't be easy but for you, Ivan, I will try."

Ivan chuckled, long and deep as he sipped at the remains of his drink. The dark smile on his face was nothing in comparison to Winter's hellish grin as he too laughed loudly at the prospect of killing one of the boys; his teeth, rotting and yellow, bared out from under his dirty moustache. They had not specified which boy would be the target but it did not matter, by the end of this war they would all be victims in some way or form; the leader of the Braginski siblings knew it was the price to pay and at the end of the day he would get his city, even if he had to take everyone down with him.

oOo

**I may be a little late with the next chapter because of work. Give it a few weeks or so, maybe less depending on my free time and procastination levels. Love you all~**

**Thanks for reading :)**


	25. Obligations

**Oh my dear god, it's been so long since an update. I'm so sorry people! I was really busy with essays for two weeks then I've had two weeks kind of lazing around. I was writing but this chapter was harder than I thought it would be, I really shouldn't have left it as long as I did. Been away too long- weird format now on !**

**Anyway I'm back now :) got all summer off! Gonna go to Edinburgh, hang out with friends, teach myself basic Italian and of course write! For now here is chapter 25 with my apologies :)  
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**Thank you to everyone who alerted and reviewed last chapter (you kept me going through this monster so thanks a bunch!)  
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**Oooh! And I will be doing another one shot for my 200th review :) good luck!  
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**Andddd- I finally uploaded the designs for the masquerade ball :D There's a link on my page to my deviant art page with them on :) They're the designs I chose but I'd love to see your own interpretations maybe? :)  
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**I've blabbered on for a while now, enjoy~  
>Hetalia does not belong to me.<br>**

**AN- Heidi = Leitchtenstein (because I don't like Lilli :P)  
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oOo**  
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The feeling that something was off dawned on Kiku as he walked briskly down the corridor that preceded Yao's personal chambers; his shoes paused briefly in their movement and halted his progress. There was usually almost silence in this part of the building, so separated as it was from the main warehouse, that any sound that was not the tick of the grandfather clock was out of place. But there it was: the rumble of unfamiliar voices coming from Yao's bed chambers right down the hall.

Kiku listened closer to the sounds, his eyes fixed on the glittering dragon mural on the wall as if he could see past it and into the room beyond. The gentle rocking motion of the clock behind him reflected on the shiny surface of the picture, shimmering like the back of a carp rising to the top of a sea of gold. The voices were loud, but not loud enough for the words to be distinct. One of the voices, a much soft tone, was definitely Yao replying to the much more demanding one. No meeting had been scheduled for today, and even if they had have been they would not be admitted into his room to see him on his sickbed. According to Yong Soo's hurried conversation over breakfast, before the man rushed off on 'business', it had been another bad night for the older man and he would probably be resting in bed for half the day, he wouldn't be up to seeing anyone. A twinge of annoyance flickered across his train of thought at the idea of someone disturbing his godfather, only to be pushed down again by a heavy breath. Whatever the people were here for it had to be important to gain an audience when he was in such a condition. He probably shouldn't disturb them.

But curiosity won out, his legs moving in the direction of the door; before Kiku could quite grasp what he was doing, he was already through it and into the small corridor that joined Yao's room to the rest of the building.

A figure stood alone in the room where he expected no one, a thin beam of light on their face as they listened into the conversation at the door. As they heard him enter they turned; it was Mei, her eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. Her long hair was wrapped up in a bun with golden rods holding the intricate waves in place. Seeing it was only him she instantly calmed instantly and hurried to meet Kiku in the centre of the room, her pretty face warped with worry. From this hallway the voices were louder and carried through the door a little bit. The smell of tobacco was heavy on the air. The visitors, for now he realised there was more than one, were asking Yao questions in deep voices. Two in total, both male and loud with authority. This could not be good.

"Kiku, you have to go in there." Mei begged as she reached him, grabbing one of his hands and pulling on it slightly to lead him forward. Her anxiety at the situation gave him the patience not to shake her off. Something must have been very wrong, she appeared so upset and there was definitely a layer of tension in the air, or perhaps it was down to the smoke sneaking out from the gap in the door to float lazily across their vision.

"What is it?" He asked. Usually he would not involve himself but not enjoying being out of the loop. Her dark eyes widened impossibly large and her bottom lip quivered.

"The police!" She hissed as a cold drop of fear slid down the back of Kiku's throat._ What were they doing here? Had something happened, had their not so legal enterprises been discovered?_ It was possible, but not probable. They kept all their loose ends tightly together; in their line of work it was better to be safe than sorry. So why were the police taking to Yao? He had to offer his services to the older man, just as his father would want him to.

Kiku nodded once and released Mei's hand to hurry to the door. He would have charged straight in but his inner voice told him it would be rude, so he knocked urgently against the wood instead, his heart pounding in his ears as the voices behind the door faltered and stopped. After a pause a small voice instructed him to enter and he threw open the doors, trying to clear his expression to a calm one so he would not look too unnecessarily worried as he hurried in.

The room was darker than the last time he had visited; even though it was still daytime outside the curtains had been prematurely drawn to block out the sunlight. Some of it crept through the thin blinds and merged with the warm glow of the lamps dotted around the room. None of them were overly bright and large portions of the room were in darkness, the rest throbbing a burnt red in the light of the lamps. It took Kiku's eyes a moment to adjust to the dark and a few moments more to adjust to the smell of tobacco that made his eyes water. The explanation for the smoke appeared in the vision of his godfather emerging from the smog like a emperor of old, curled up in bed under loose covers that pooled around his knees. His hair was unbraided and loose around his feminine face. His dark eyes travelled the expanse of the room and settled on Kiku, betraying a thankful expression before turning stony once more as they rolled back onto his guests, one hand raising the end of the intricate piping to his mouth to take an unnecessary gulp of smoke from the device that bubbled on his beside cabinet.

Yao was not without support from the household. Xiang was sprawled across one of the divans, his feet up on the armrest as he fiddled with what appeared to be an ivory puzzle ball. His thumbs worked in the holes as he was absorbed in his game rather than the room at large; Kiku thought his distance was inappropriate what with the seriousness of the situation. In the silence of his entrance the click of the puzzle was rhythmic and loud, the click of bone against bone. Even Feliks who was hovering by the door in case he would be needed, watching the policemen curiously as if contemplating how to make them leave the house. Kiku was both shocked and surprisingly angry at Xiang's lack of consideration for his own father's troubles, manifested in the form of the two officers.

The two unfamiliar men were stood at a reasonable distance from Yao's bed. They were both stocky and neither of them was wearing a uniform but they didn't seem to need them, the air of authority thick around them was like the smoke in the air. As Kiku entered, one of the men, a ginger haired individual with inquisitive green eyes, watched his every step carefully before turning back to Yao. The other's eyes never left the older man and only seemed to scowl deeper, his eye twitching slightly under a mop of blond hair and thick eyebrows.

"Do you want me to repeat the question, Mr Wang?" The man spoke up. He had a highly articulate British accent which made Kiku blink once shock, the unfamiliar sound jarring him slightly before he recovered. So they were questioning the older man, and definitely not in a polite manner; the blond haired officer seemed to be restraining himself from yelling. It was unprofessional in Kiku's opinion, he should not let his emotions run him in such a job.

Yao seemed unfazed by the officer's high running emotions, he merely blinked lazily in the blond man's direction and turned to face Kiku languidly. His pupils were too large in his eyes and on second glance his face was covered in a fine sheet of sweat that glistened under the lamplight.

"These men are here to talk about some rotten business going down in the city, they seem to believe we can help them. Gentlemen, this is my godson Kiku; he's been helping me out while I've been unwell. His father and I are old friends. Kiku, this is Inspector Arthur Kirkland and his brother Superintendent William Kirkland. He's on loan from the British police force, isn't that nice?"

William smiled politely and nodded, but his eyes narrowed slightly at Yao's obvious attempt to stall for time. Arthur on the other hand did not hide his suspicion so well and scowled deeper, his skin darkening in the dim light of the room as blood rushed to his face in annoyance.

"I will ask you one more time Mr Wang, and this time I shall make it clear." He growled. His tone made Kiku edge forward slightly on instinct. He didn't look as though he would strike Yao, or worse arrest him, but his voice suggested his temptations in the matter. The threat lay concealed beneath his words like a tiger in long grass. "Have you ever heard the name, or dealt with, a Mister Roma Vargas?"

Kiku was glad his father had taught him to master the art of keeping his emotions out of his features, it was always a useful tool in these situations. These men could not know about their deal surely. What on earth was going on?A horrible thought struck him: _had they been watching them all this time? Had someone said something to the police?_ This was very dangerous ground, if these men found out about the shipment they had delivered only the other day not only would they be in trouble but they would drag Mr Vargas down with them. He would not believe that the Italian man could appreciate such a mistake. Kiku burned with shame at the fact; it was his deal and he should have made sure no one would report back. Even Feliks and Xiang looked taken aback by the mention of the Italian boss, not hiding their shock as well as Kiku. Felik's masked his by looking down in distraction at his nails where as Xiang started to move the puzzle slower, the sounds quieting down to a tolerable level but the clicks still grating on Kiku's nerves.

Yao however looked nonchalant and merely blinked up at the officer, either ignoring or not quite seeing the anger on the other man's face through the tobacco haze. His lips quivered weakly before he spoke. "I know a lot of business men in this city Mr Kirkland, but none by that name. I do not quite understand why you are asking me. Perhaps you have got the wrong man? I have never heard of this Vargas character, much less dealt with him. Is he wanted for something?"

The policeman clenched his fists together in frustration as though holding back a scream. Beside him his brother's lips tightened and he placed his hand on the others arm in warning. If Kiku was going to hazard a guess he would have labelled William the older of the two men by the way he seemed to be able to read his brother's mood very well and the way he was trying to remind him of his position. Arthur had all the trimmings of the younger and more emotional brother.

"Funny," Arthur snarled through a tense jaw, shaking off the other man in one swift movement. He advanced on the bed, stopping short before Yao with fury in his eyes. Kiku went to move forward but a sharp look from William stopped him short. He would deal with this. "Because we have information saying quite the opposite, unless you know any other Wangs in the city vicinity, all our leads point to you. So one of you is lying."

So they did have information, an informant perhaps somewhere in the folds of the business. Things were not looking good. Kiku bit his lips with the need to protect his godfather and the business, it was his duty; if Xiang would not step up to the position then he would have to himself. His mind raced as he tried to think of a way to get rid of the officer's without acting suspicious. Yao was not shaken by the other man's threats, he considered this information thoughtfully as he took a large drag from his pipe, billowing smoke out into the room without consideration for the other inhabitants.

"I have no idea what you are talking about officer." He said simply after a long pause.

"Then you won't mind if we look around a bit, eh?" The ginger haired man interrupted before the other could blow up. His smile was friendly and approachable but there was a sharp dagger like edge to his smile that Kiku did not like. He was a snake hidden in the grass, not as brash as his brother but more sneaky and subtle. Arthur held his emotions on his sleeve but William could control himself, he was therefore the more dangerous of the pair.

Yao shrugged, barely concealing a wince at the pain that the movement cost. "Do as you wish officers, I have nothing to hide."

Yet if these men had come a few days earlier and looked hard enough they would have found a large shipment in the warehouse. As far as Kiku knew every trace of the deal had been removed from the building, there would be nothing left. Yong Soo always tidied up after himself when it came to the illegal side of the business; he was only complacent when it came to the everyday stuff which he let Mei run after him for. Then again there could always be something left out in plain view.

Then it hit him: the phone book.

A quick glance in the direction of the desk told him that it was still there, laid out on the wooden surface like a marker for all to see. All of Yao's business associates were in there, including Vargas and Braginski. Luckily enough the object itself was nondescript and unlikely to attract attention but even then, Kiku's thoughts sped as he tried to think ahead. A bead of sweat dripped unseen down his back, but he was lucky, so very luck, the police seemed more preoccupied with the matter at hand rather than the room in general. They shared a meaningful glance in each others direction.

"Right then, so you won't mind if we look around the house and the warehouse then?" William asked, drawing himself up to his full height. He was the slightest bit taller than his brother and more intimidating because of it. "We'll need to go and tell our man outside."

"Be my guest." Yao responded tersely, gripping onto the pipe in his quivering hand which shook with either suppressed rage or illness. His face was pasty and strained. He only relaxed when the two men nodded and made their move to exit the room. They did not even look at him as they passed but a strange urge to speak up rose in Kiku's chest, one that couldn't be ignored. To his shame he let it win.

"You will not find anything." He promised solemnly. Arthur stopped in his advance to the door to stare at him as though he'd only just noticed he was there, his focus had been too intent on Yao to see him properly. Now he looked at him with the same hard suspicion looming over his brow like a thunder cloud.

"What did you say your name was again, boy?" He asked. Kiku was not used to be addressed as such and snapped his response.

"Kiku Honda, _Sir_." He added on the title as an afterthought, not wanted to appear too rude. The man considered him darkly with his brother at his side doing the same, although in a more reserved manner.

"Did you know, Mr Honda, that I have men looking out at the Vargas house on a twenty four hour watch?" He quizzed, watching his expression for a reaction. His face loomed in closely to his own and Kiku had the urge to move away but he held strong. "And did you also know that they can report back to me on the comings and goings of any individual that visits that house? It is a shame I did not bring them with me today but I am sure they would love to meet you all, don't you think?"

A watch on the house? Had he been spotted visiting the building other day when they had made their deal? He was very recognisable after all, they were bound to remember him. He was lucky that these people were not here at the moment or they would call him straight out. He felt suddenly frustrated with himself for allowing it to happen; he knew he should have taken the back entrance to the building but he had believed he would not be taken as seriously if he'd used the servant door. His own pride had struck him down once more and could possibly be his, and Yao's undoing. That he would not allow.

"My godfather is very sick." He retorted, barely keeping the fury out of his voice. He was surprised by the fire in his own words which were so usually calm and collected. "Your false assumptions and your presence here is not appreciated, Mr Kirkland. I suggest you complete your investigation quickly and leave before you do any more damage."

Arthur blinked and sniffed hard through his nose, his eyes cold as they flickered from Kiku's face to look at Yao sat up in bed, pale and shaking even in the warmth of the dark room. He glared down at him one more time as if trying to memorise Kiku's features before pushing past him and out of the door, his brother following at his heels. As the door closed the silence was broken only by the incessant clicks of the puzzle that Xiang still twisted in his hand. It seemed he wasn't the only one who found the noise irritating as Yao soon snapped.

"For goodness sake Xiang, would you stop playing with that thing and grow up?"

Yao wasn't able to hold himself together much longer and his body gave up trying to hold itself together; he coughed into his hand at the exertion and Feliks moved forward tutting, removing the pipe out of the older man's hand before he could drop it onto the bed. The coughs had a raw, dry quality that made Kiku's stomach crawl with worry even as he kept his expression straight but Xiang seemed unconcerned by his father's pain. Instead he shot up from the divan at the insult, his dark eyes angry and his mouth a thin line.

"What did you expect me to do?" He demanded even though his father could not answer. Felik gave him a withering look as he went to pour the older man a drink of water from the jug on his bedside table. It did not seem to help the Xiang's mood to be looked down on, by the hired help of all people, and he slammed down his puzzle onto the divan with so much force that it rolled onto the floor with a clatter across the tiles.

Kiku flinched slightly at the action; such a childish show of emotion he had not expected from Yao's son. Awkwardly he gravitated towards the window and the desk with a purpose in mind, the light the filtered in through the blinds but there was no breath of outside air to stir them. They were closed shut even in the warmth of the summer weather, the air of the room was thick, Kiku was half tempted to open a window. It might have stopped the argument, born by the high tensions and claggy air that stuck in the back of his throat but he was not quite sure he wanted to be part of this domestic. It was not his business to interfere with the dealings of a man and his son. Xiang on the other hand seemed desperate for him to join but not to back him up, and Kiku did not like how Xiang shot him dark glances across the room as though he had also offended him in some way. He wasn't sure how he'd done it and he did not intend to ask when he was in such a mood.

Yao was still coughing weakly into his hand as he accepted the glass from Felik, his eyes burning over the rim in disappointment. "I expected you to _care_ Xiang. If they find out we are lying it could cause many problems! Not only am I in danger but the men I work with too, and if they are in danger that makes you even more so. You do not cross these people and get off lightly. This business is becoming very difficult to manage and if the police are getting involved-"

"It's nothing to do with me." The boy hissed with a glare stopping his father short. Despite himself Kiku stared between them, watching as the tension snapped against their relationship. Yao blinked slowly at the rebuff for a long tense moment before closing his eyes and leaning against the pillow in exhaustion, his dark hair damp at the temples as if he had been doing some demanding physical task.

"That is right; it does not concern you." He muttered, his eyes haunted and dull lacking their usual glassy sheen. The words cut through the air like a knife, they were not even directed at Kiku but he felt them burn as though they had been aimed at him. He was not not surprised when Xiang flinched as though he had been hit, turning his head away so that they could not see the tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. He obviously had not expected that sort of reaction from the older man and it showed in his stance and his face, even as he tried to hide it with spite.

"I shall leave you to your business then, _father_." There was a patronising edge to the words, spoken in a low growl, so low that Kiku almost didn't catch it as Xiang rushed past him and through the doors that the police had just left. Kiku watched after his retreating back, half considering going after him before realising he had no idea what he would say in the situation. It was not his problem. His only worry was for Yao and his business.

Speaking of which, Yao's personal address book was still on the table. Kiku pocketed it without really thinking, catching Yao's tired eyes he turned back to face his godfather.

"At least I can rely on someone." He said softly, with a thankful if somewhat wan smile as the sound of footsteps drew closer to the room, signalling the return of the police. Kiku bowed back tersely, barely moving his head in the action.

"It is my duty to look after you," he muttered as the police drew closer, their voices loud and cheerful and celebrating already. A spark of smugness brushed against the ball of nervousness in his mind as he knew they would at least be denied one lead. "You can always rely on me."

oOo

The dark car slowed to a halt on the curb on the emptying street with a dying growl. Vash Zwingli barely dared to look at his driving companions; the Inspector sat in the back of the vehicle, his green eyes furious and dark as he stared out of the window as if it had committed a personal injustice to him. Beside Vash, William was at the driver's wheel, looking out onto the road without seeing it, his eyes flicking into the back seat in the mirror above their heads. His expression was worried as he took in his brother's rejected form. When they had first met the other day, Vash had noticed that despite all their bickering the two brother's were impossibly close. The worry on William's face was clear as day, even though he tried to hide it with his rough exterior.

It had been a tense journey back from the Wang building, the only sound being the grumble of the car and the squeak of the leather chair as William manoeuvred the crowded main street in an attempt to get to Vash's quieter back road where his home was.

They had found nothing in the warehouse, even after an extensive search of both the main building and the home of the Wang family and they'd eventually had to call it a day. There was nothing to be found and they were just making themselves look like fools, bubbling around looking for clues like idiots. The only thing the warehouse held was spices and cooking ingredients, nothing even slightly dodgy. The smug smiles on the workers' faces as they had rushed around were taunting, each one knife like and painful. It was late now, the sky darkening to evening and the air growing cooler. The breeze that brushed in through the open window had a bitter edge to it that had bothered him for the whole car journey. He had wanted to close it but hadn't dareed. Vash was thankful the two other officers had enough consideration to drop him off outside him home but it did not mean he had enjoyed the trip.

"Thanks," He grunted as he opened the door. His words were met by a tense, musing silence and he eagerly stepped out onto the pavement, his shoes clipping against the stone loudly in the quietness of the street. There was a murmur of the cars the road over but nothing else to disturb the silence but the hum of the idling motor. He poked his head back in the car. "I'll see you tomorrow, Sirs."

William smiled warily, adding a nod for good measure but Arthur didn't even move. Vash did not feel rejected, on the contrary, he knew how much the case meant to Arthur just as he knew how much it meant to himself. His reaction was a valid one. Without another word he closed the door and hopped out of the way of the car as it drove away. Another car going the other way rushed past it, blocking his vision for a second so that when he next saw it the car was at the end of the street. He watched the retreating exhaust turn the corner, his mind on the case, before turning and walking down the steps that led to his basement apartment.

As he fumbled with the lock, surrounded by the grime that collected in the under pavement of the doorway, he wondered whether they would ever complete the case. He had burned with anticipation at all the leads they had got in the past week, from Roderich and other sources. His passion for the case had been reignited. It was like they had been digging, then struck oil; that only good things could happen, or at least he'd believed that. That was until they'd hit another dead end and the well of information had dried up with the Wang organisation having nothing on them to tie them to the Vargas household. His hands shook a little as he inserted the key, his eyes narrowed. Roderich could not have been lying, something was wrong with the whole situation.

Years in the police force had made him know when a case was worth chasing, like now. A few months back it had been a different deal, the leads had stopped and he had been forced to follow the prohibition cases instead just to get by. He did not complain, it was money after all but he knew finding Roma would be a big payout that would really help him in his situation.

His parents death had been a shock to him, not because of their death but because of the debt it had uncovered. Vash had known they had been borrowing money but the extent had surprised even him. At first he had been angry and for a long while he had hated them both, hated them for leaving him in such a mess. But then he'd cleared his head and thought rationally about what he had left. Vash had enough money in his personal savings to pay the rent and buy food for a year; he had hoped by the end of that time that the debt would all be gone but he had only chipped away at the surface of the iceberg. There was still a lot to pay off and his lease of the apartment was agonisingly drawing to its slow close. They needed to find Roma soon, it was the only way he would be able to keep living in his apartment.

"Heidi!" Vash declared as he made his way into the house, slipping off his jacket to hang on the hook by the door. The small kitchen he had entered into was dingy, a vile green colour he hated but had learnt to live with. The house was uncomfortably warm, the heating on low even in the summer, but he just shed another layer to get used to it. The sound of a poorly tuned wireless met his ears as he walked through to the sitting area. The low ceilinged room was about as poorly dressed as the kitchen and incredibly small, a table and chairs had been thrown in as well as a tatty settee. Their old house had been a lot bigger and it showed, the furniture all looking as though they had been poorly shrunk and put in a dolls house. Most of their unnecessary belongings, decorations, extra plates, had been sold in an attempt to add to their money pot but it had not made much difference. He had loved his old home, a large one on the outskirts of the city, but over the years they slowly and slowly downgraded, heaping their old things into more and more shady homes.

He was not alone though, a young girl was sat alone in the room, exactly where he had left he when he had left that morning.

"You're late back Vash, is everything okay at work?" Heidi, his younger sister, asked quietly. Her voice was softer than usual over the sound of the wireless. She was seated at the settee, close to thespeakers and partly hidden behind the height of the back of the seat. Heidi wore a long nightgown, her blond hair braided together in lengthy plaits that hung well below her waist. Her eyes that looked up to meet him, just a little away from where his face actually was, were milky and pale. One of her eyes, pale green like their mother's had been, was not as fully clouded like the other and allowed her a little vision, but not much. Cataracts which had been developing since birth had taken her eyesight in one eye but she was slowly losing the other too; this was what their parents had been spending money they did not have on.

It was this reason alone he chose to forgive them.

Vash sighed as he walked around the seat towards her, casually adjusting the dial to the right frequency and making the sound instantly better rather than a warbled mess. Sometimes she struggled with the knobs and just left them at a tolerable level, it was like a ritual for him to change it over every time he came home. He kneeled in front of her so she could see him better; when she had been younger they used to pretend that he was a knight coming to visit his queen, however those days were gone and her eyesight was worse than ever.

"I'm sorry. I tried to get away but we were in the middle of an investigation." He said softly, raising a hand to pat down her hair which had been mused up by the seat. The action was automatic and he didn't even think about it as he did it. It was very natural to look after her, he had done so all his life.

"There's no problem, Vash." Heidi's voice was bright and as beautiful as ever while her unseeing eyes wandered over his features. "It's just you missed our program, it was really interesting today."

He forced a smile. The radio channel Heidi was fond of mainly sent out a broadcast of political shows, he was not fond of them himself but for her he allowed it. It was the only glimpse of the outside world she could get to, his need to get money and the demanding nature of his job meant that she was alone most of the time and needed all the entertainment she could get.

He wished he had enough money to send her to a special school that would be able to look after her properly. She was a smart girl, years of blindness meant that she was able to do mathematical sums in her head, but she could not go anywhere on her own. She needed to be with someone all the time. Merely crossing the road was a hazard. She was okay in the home because it was familiar but around the neighbourhood she had only ever been on a walk to the small shop at the corner and the park close-by. She loved to go outside but he would never allow her to go alone; it killed him that he could not take her as often as either of them would like.

Vash knew he was being as protective as his parents had been, he knew Heidi was not made of glass and he trusted her, it was the rest of the world he did not trust. It was his job to look after her and pay off the family debts, only then could they be happy. It was his duty to put food on the table, to make sure the house was always warm. Without him he did not want to think what would happen to his little sister. Vash feared the day something would happen to her and the knowledge that he could have maybe prevented it if he was a better brother choked him inside.

"Shame," he tried to make his tone more light hearted than he felt. "How have you been today? Everything okay?"

"I've been good- oh wait!" Heidi's eyes widened slightly as a memory shook her. "Someone knocked on the door earlier, Vash. But I did as you said and didn't answer it, after a bit they went away."

"Really?" He looked up to the direction door as if expecting the visitor to be still stood there but of course the area was empty. Who could have called? They weren't expecting anyone, unless it was the landlord. The man had been getting a little jumpy about the lease running out. Damn, he needed more money soon.

"I'm sure they'll call again if it was really important." Heidi commented thoughtfully, breaking his train of thought that was sure to spiral out of control. He smiled even though he knew she would not really see it but his sister had a habit of being able to tell regardless.

"Of course they will." He agreed, patting her on the hand. He moved to get up but she stopped him with a feather light hold on his arm, she looked up at him, her pale eyes struggling to focus on his features.

"Vash, is everything okay?" There was a lot of meaning to those words. It was not just about him, that he knew it was about everything in general: the house, his job, the money. Heidi knew about the troubles but she didn't know it all, he knew he shouldn't hide it from her but he could not help himself. She would want to help and he couldn't allow her to injure herself in an attempt to make money. Never at that cost.

Vash shook her off. "Everything is great, there is no need to worry. I'll sort something out Heidi, I promise."

oOo

**Again sorry for being away for so long! Drop me a review maybe :D**  
><strong>Next chapter is back to Lovi and Toni, sorry they weren't in this one but I enjoyed finally introducing the Switzerland storyline!<strong>

**Heidi has cataracts btw, back in the 20s they could remove them but it was REALLY expensive and not as advanced as now. They don't really have the money (obviously) and I don't think Vash would want to risk his sister :) **

**Anyway I'm off :) thanks for reading!**


	26. Too Close for Comfort

**Finally chapter 26, I had a lot of trouble with this one (a lot of feelings in it that I was a bit iffy writing) but hopefully it's sorted now. Hope you like it :)**

**Thank you for all the favourites and the alerts and the reviews means a lot guys! :D**

**Disclaimer- Hetalia doesn't belong to me.**

oOo

The small white dog stared up wistfully at the sizzling bacon on the cooker above, its tongue lolling out of the side of its mouth and its tail beating out a happy rhythm onto the floor. Berwald let out an uncharacteristic chuckle and in a quick movement, tossed the little creature a corner of fat which it gobbled out of thin air in a snap of its jowls.

"You spoil her too much," Tino chastised fondly from behind a broadsheet newspaper, tipping it slightly to quirk a pale eyebrow at the other man. "She'll get fat. And that's my bacon."

Berwald smiled and returned to watching the breakfast crisp up in the pan. It was early in the morning; the sun had risen high enough in the sky to filter in through the small square window that belonged to the kitchen. The room was small and quaint, wooden surfaces surrounded them and the door lay open to show a small living area, also wooden. It was a modest apartment, completely within their price range and to their tastes. There were not many landlords in this city that would allow their sort of people to live in their buildings. They had been very lucky to find a liberal, and slightly blind, old lady who was happy to give away the flat despite the usual prejudice they met towards them. It was not as if they paraded their sexuality off the rooftops but people were always suspicious when two men wanted accommodation with a single bedroom.

Berwald plated up the food and Tino put down his paper with a deep sigh, picking up a knife and fork to eat his meal. His partner took the seat before him and in silence they ate, disturbed only by the panting of the dog beside them who begged for more titbits. There was a tranquil feeling to the air; it was the first time in a few weeks that the two of them had time to themselves what with working and paperwork. There was a simple pleasure in sitting in silence and just being together that Tino always enjoyed. Sometimes he wished the world would just lull over and that there would be no responsibilities left, or negative attitudes. He would not have to hide and he definitely wouldn't have to work, he could just lie all day in bed with Berwald beside him and be happy.

And then the moment was broken as easily as it came.

"Have you signed the warrant?" Berwald asked him as he took a sip of coffee, his severe blue eyes questioning over the top of his cup. Tino nodded back, used to the other man's face seeming a lot more angry than he actually was. When they had first met he had been terrified of the intimidating figure before him, only warming to him when he had noticed him physically trying not to scare him out. Berwald was a kind man at heart rather than in looks.

"I left it on Kirkland's desk last night." He replied, also taking a drink. Berwald was a man of few words and grunted in response, turning back to his meal at the same time that Tino opened his mouth to continue the conversation and leaving him hanging and feeling silly. Silence followed uncomfortably for Tino who wondered how to breech the conversation he desired without Berwald getting upset with him.

Ever since he had spoken to Arthur he had been worrying. Tino worried a lot by nature, about work, about the bills, about Berwald and people finding out; but the conversation with the police inspector had put up his anxiety levels by tenfold.

Normally he would push the unprofessional ideas out of his head, he was his father's son and he had a duty to the force to keep a level head but the revival of the name of Vargas had sparked the worry back in his mind. A memory he had thought he would no longer have to relive kept coming back to him and he could no longer keep his mouth closed. The reminder about the warrant only stoked the flames that had smouldered in his head, bursting them back into full life. He decided to take the plunge and bring up what he had on his mind.

"Berwald, about the case-" he began but was easily cut across by the other man's louder tones.

"I know what you're going to say Tino." He said, his voice solemn. _How on earth had he known?_ "And we have to let what happens happen. We cannot step in when justice must be served."

For some reason this was not the response he had expected, not had he wanted. Tino stared at him open mouth and then all but slammed down his glass, making the dog beside him flinch and cower under the table in fear. The smaller blond ignored the reaction and the shard of ice it stuck into his heart, and instead stared icily across the table, his fingers tight on the mug before him.

"How can you say that?" He demanded, his tone not quite as loud and angry as he felt. Their walls were thin and the neighbours did not need to hear a heated argument this early in the morning. "God, Berwald, he was our friend."

Berwald on the other hand continued to look as stern as a school teacher by the outburst of his partner and instead shrugged deliberately slow. "He _was_ our friend Tino, he's not anymore. I can understand why you might feel a need to help but it is uncalled for. He made his choice."

"So if he gets called into the station." Tino mused furiously, throwing the situations out at him. He could not help but feel a little disappointed in Berwald, but he also couldn't disregard that the other man was speaking the truth and somehow it made him even more desperate to prove his point. "If he gets arrested; damn if he dies, you expect me to sit back and let it happen?"

"No," Berwald replied in the same tone as before, his voice just as even and strong. _Ah,_ Tino despaired_, why did he have to look at him like that?_ "I don't expect you to do anything but the right thing. As for me, I'll follow your orders as always."

Tino felt himself visibly deflate, Berwald's words puncturing his argument easily. Suddenly the room seemed a lot smaller, and his attention flicked onto the counter-top, the fridge, looking anywhere but at the man before him.

He was being as childish, as the board often accused him off and he knew it, but he could not let this drop. This meant more to him than a simple dispute. Tino was all for catching Roma Vargas, a man like him needed to be caught at all costs for making the city rotten and vile; he was just afraid of what would be dragged through the mud to get it. His biggest fear, he realised- the reason he was angry, was that He would be killed before the police could get to him. Better off in a cell for a few years than what Vargas could do to him.

He was just lucky that He was as much of a stubborn bastard as Tino himself was, but it did not stop him being worried and thinking the worst. Tino's position, for all its power could only take him so far. Part of him longed to be back on the streets rather than trapped up that stuffy office, lording over the other men when he really wanted to join them. Berwald was the only thing that kept him sane and here was yelling at him. Not a great start to a morning.

He reached across the table and placed a wary hand on top of Berwald's mug and hand.

"Look," he started apologetically. "I just want him to be safe, okay? He meant a lot to me back in the forces and I don't think it's right just to leave him blind on this one. But you are telling the truth, I can't get involved- so I won't."

The promise crippled him and he forced a smile to hide the way his eyes had filled slightly with tears of frustration. Berwald returned his gaze evenly and then with a small sigh took Tino's hand in his own larger one, rubbing his thumb over the soft edge of his knuckles.

"He meant a lot to me too." Berwald admitted after a long pause, catching Tino's eyes with his solid blue gaze that never failed to make his heart stop in his chest. Berwald smiled slightly. "Arthur's men are well trained. If he's at the hotel then he's safe, if not the idiot can look after himself just fine. When the time comes, we'll help him out, but you have to be patient."

He understood that, of course he did but he couldn't help but worry that they were already too late. Only precious time would tell; time they didn't have to give.

"I know." He sighed, wondering faintly if his father had this many worries, or if that had been what had taken him to his early grave rather than the illness. With his other hand he absent-mindedly stroked the dog's head as she crawled out from under the table, sensing the disagreement was over for now. "I know."

oOo

The pile of paperwork never seemed to go down, every time Lovino made it to the halfway point yet another stack of the things would be added onto the top like magic. He was starting to see numbers swimming before his eyes and he had only been working for an hour; he had barely started the work for that day. Never a good sign.

The house was quiet as usual; the sounds of the bird chirping outside were much louder than any noise in the whole building. Lovino's eyes were drawn to the window and the sun dancing through tauntingly, promising a good day, before reminding him that he had to work by lighting up the paper before him a blinding white-like beacon. If it had been dull outside he would have been glad for the distraction of work, but as it was he longed to be outside in the fresh air. The house was too quiet, too empty, to work in. His Grandfather was off on business and Feliciano was at school with Ludwig. Even the staff were busy; Roderich and Elizabeta had been allowed the day off to go into town to look for stuff for the baby. Heracles was still busy with Sadiq the last Lovino had checked. It was only him and, of course, Antonio in the house.

He glanced over his shoulder to look at the other man. The Spaniard did not seem as fazed by the emptiness of the surroundings and was happily working away, once again doing tasks that he was not required to do. He had all but taken out the entirety of Lovino's wardrobe and was absorbed in running a suit brush over one of his older pieces he had not worn in a long time. The serene look on his face as he completed such a menial task was something to behold, his green eyes focused on the clothing and his mouth curved into a content smile while he hummed. Only an idiot would enjoy doing something so simple, and that idiot was called Antonio. He didn't have the heart to tell him to stop. Lovino shook his head and turned back to his work that covered the desk.

But it was not long before the sound of silence ringing in his ears once more brought a sigh to Lovino's lips. He hated not having Feliciano around; even knowing he was in the house usually calmed his nerves as he could hear his aimless chatter through the walls. It was lonely. He hated big crowds but he did not like being on his own, and the work was certainly not helping him. It only served to remind him of the distance he had created between himself and his brother, once so close now he felt like he was shutting himself off from him. But then again, Lovino didn't want Feliciano involved with all the family business; it wasn't safe for him to be involved.

A second sigh rose in his throat as he laid down his pen to kneed his knuckles into his eyes. A flicker of a headache crossed his vision and he groaned in irritation. Damn it, the work needed doing today. Antonio looked up from the suit he was dusting with concern.

"Headache?" He asked simply. It was the first words he had spoken in a while and his warm tones travelled lightly across the room. Lovino nodded slightly, glancing in the bodyguard's direction.

"Just a little." Or so he hoped anyway. "You couldn't get me a drink could you?"

Antonio nodded and carefully put down the suit to scurry out of the room. Antonio was so straight-backed in his own suit, one of the new ones that Roma had made sure he owned, that it looked unnatural. Lovino was used to seeing him dressed shabbily and didn't really want to admit that he thought he looked better dressed. That was; it was more Antonio to be dressed like he'd just rolled out of bed and onto the clothes he had worn the day before. The new suits were so clinical-

Lovino shook his head, clearing his thoughts. What on earth was he thinking about suit cuts for? He had work to do. He grumbled and picked up his pen once more but the numbers refused to make sense on the page. Usually the work he was given was simple, merely checking and rechecking calculations but for some reason his heart wasn't in it today which was odd. He had thought that after seeing the hotel he would become more motivated. But no, all he seemed to want to do was anything but work. Lovino even contemplated playing his violin for a while, for the sound more than anything, which was strange. More than once in a week was pushing it, especially when he hadn't played in months.

His mind was so far away that Lovino did not even register Antonio's return until a glass inserted itself into his hand which he had left resting on the desk. He blinked confused, staring at the sparkling glass surface and the cool liquid inside for a second before turning to thank the bodyguard; however he was met with something quite unexpected.

"What the hell?" The words tumbled out of his mouth as he found himself facing a guitar, held proudly before him in the Spaniards hands like an offering. The wooden surface gleamed a bright gold in the sunlight, matching the grin on Antonio's face which was wider and brighter than usual.

"It's a guitar!" He said unnecessarily. He plucked the strings lightly in demonstration and the instrument purred in delight. "I know you like noise when you work so I thought this might help. Let me play for you?"

There was a pause.

"No." Lovino said bluntly, turning back to his work. A burning sensation rose to his face. How had Antonio read him so easily? Damn, was he that obvious? He hadn't mentioned how he got his headaches at all to the man but here he was with a solution he had not asked for. Once again he wanted to do something that was completely beyond his job requirements and he couldn't think why.

The bodyguard pouted sadly, moving around the desk so that he was in Lovino's line of sight. He turned away in response. "But why not?"

"Because you'll be loud and annoying." And it was weird but he did not admit that out loud. Antonio shook his head, dismissing his words and settled himself on the floor beside the desk, much to Lovino's displeasure. He quickly shod his suit jacket until he was only wearing the shirt beneath, a blue and white pinstripe that suited his complexion, the white collar kissing at his throat. Lovino, despairing at his timing to noise these things, turned in his seat to kick him.

"I said no!" He grumbled, his irritation growing as the bodyguard only chuckled, looking up at him from his position with a cheeky grin. He wouldn't be moving any time soon, and damn it he needed to work. Antonio must have noticed the frustration on his face because his smile took on a more calming appearance as he strummed a few honey like notes.

"At least give it a try?" He asked, one eyebrow raised patiently as he played a few more notes. The sound was beautiful but Lovino was not sure if it would be a distraction or not, from his memory guitar music was generally very loud and there was a point when noise became a hindrance rather than a background sound. "If you can't work I'll stop, how's that?"

He huffed in response, turning back to his work once more. "Fine but if it annoys me-"

He left the threat hanging as Antonio started to play. The music started off fast, faster than he would have liked for a work song but it was an amazing show of skill. If it hadn't have been the introduction to the song Lovino would have thought that Antonio was just showing off, but it didn't seem like this was the case. Just as the melody jumped out into a fast, breakneck pace, it slowed down with a mystical like quality, a hum of the strings and Antonio was playing a very different song. This one more melodic and thoughtful, almost like a lullaby in nature. It was patient and it sounded old, very old. It brought to mind the image of lamp lit streets, burnt shadows dazzling at the edges and the stone below gleaming with the natural polish of hundreds of years of hurried feet. The sky above gleamed a dazzling orange and the smell of the street life on the air, warm and full of promise; it was tart and almost citrus like and very refreshing. The world Antonio played for was a very different world to the one he lived in now, brick buildings and bright, clinical doorways in a town seemingly void of anything good.

Antonio might have escaped his old home but he had not found a better one in Lovino's opinion. What he would give to walk those streets-

"Lovi?" Antonio broke his train of thought. He realised he had been working without noticing, his pen in his hands moving as if controlled by the music. The bodyguard's face was directed downwards to watch his fingers on the cords but a flash of green in his direction showed he wanted to speak to him. "I wanted to explain about the thing with Gilbert to you, if you would like me to? I do not want it to get between us, and I wanted a chance to explain myself when we were alone. I don't know if we'll get a chance to discuss it later."

Lovino blinked. He had not forgotten about Antonio's link to the other man, how could he when he was the messenger for the people that had killed his parents? But he was not dismayed by the link between his bodyguard and the other man, not as much as he should have been or his Grandfather would have liked. He trusted him and Lovino had not realised how much the other was worried about how he would feel.

Curiosity got the better of him. "Sure go ahead."

The Spaniard smiled wearily into his music, still carrying on with the beat which had picked up again. He waited until it had slowed down before continuing.

"I met Gilbert by accident on the way over here." He explained. The music added the perfect backdrop to the conversation, Lovino fainting wondered if he intended it. "We both had the same idea in working for our passage over to America. The man who owned the ship was in a generous mood and let us both on. We worked well together, despite his appearances Gilbert is a hard working, honourable man."

Lovino couldn't help but snort. There was a reason he had head butted the guy and it certainly wasn't because he was 'honourable'. Antonio nodded slightly, hiding a smile.

"Granted he isn't the nicest person to get along with but he was a good person to me." He continued. He paused in his playing suddenly to tune up the guitar, pausing often to hear the notes properly. There was something so very natural in the action, the way his fingers played with the dials, like it was natural for him to play music. Lovino was reminded of the feeling of the violin between his own hands and the way the instrument ruled him when he played, whereas Antonio was the master in this relationship, he was almost jealous. Almost. "It meant a lot being so far away from home to have someone who had my back."

"Had your back?" Lovino was confused at his meaning. Antonio shrugged and with his tuning done, started to play again.

"The men on the ship were not fond of us freeloaders eating their food and taking the recognition for work that they felt they deserved. They were not very nice and were only pleasant when the captain was watching, which wasn't a lot of the time." He explained the fact so very simply like it was nothing, easy to brush off. "Big men like that taking on the smaller guys, together Gilbert and I were a team. We protected each other. That's why I stepped in when those guys were hitting you in the alley. It's not nice to be bullied."

Antonio continued quickly before Lovino could react to this new information which left his head reeling a little. "Anyway, when we arrived in America, Gilbert told me of a job he had lined up and that he was sure if I wanted in I'd have a job in a snap. I was tempted, I won't lie, but I wanted to make my own way so I declined. When I met you I was running out of savings and more than a little tempted to find him and accept the offer. I'd tracked him down to this city for the sole purpose of doing so. Looking back now I'm glad I didn't."

The bodyguard beamed up at him and Lovino could do nothing but blush. How on earth this could be better than another job? Having to run around and baby him? And had he even considered what would happen if they actually got into danger, he doubted Antonio would like the job as much when someone was firing a gun at his ass.

The thought of being involved in such a situation with the loyal bodyguard protecting him at all costs, as he so frequently proclaimed was what he would do, made Lovino feel vaguely sick with guilt so he quickly changed the conversation, training his eyes onto the paper before him so he would not have to look at Antonio's expression. His hand worked automatically on the numbers before him even as his mind was somewhere else. The music was helping after all but he didn't let him know that.

"So what did you do on this ship?" He asked rudely. "Laze around and be as stupid as you are here?"

Antonio chuckled and paused in his playing to pat his guitar lovingly. "It was a lot of hard work but in the evenings I would play guitar and the more friendly of the crew would sing along, although they were all friendly when they'd had a few to drink. And Gilbert showed me how to whittle wooden creatures from the scrap wood onboard, it helped to pass the longer hours and it is very therapeutic. I can make something for you if you like?"

"Sure, whatever." Lovino said pausing in his work to sneak a glance at Antonio who grinned and returned to playing music softly, picking up where he left off and continuing with his song. A small warm feeling in his stomach spread at the thought of someone making something for him; as a child he had received gifts and his brother was fond of making picture for him but he very rarely received anything from outside the family.

Of course Antonio was not just a stranger, in an odd way he had become as much a part of Lovino's life as his brother was. It seemed an age away when he had wanted to get rid of him, and instead he now found he was quite comfortable with him at his side, like he was always meant to be there. The simple task of playing music and talking to keep him company meant a lot more than Lovino would ever admit, he was surprisingly grateful for the interaction.

"When did you learn to play?" Lovino found himself asking. Normally he would not ask such a question, or any at all, but he was intrigued by Antonio more than anyone else he had ever met. At school he had known people yet none of them had been close, and he knew all there was to know about the people in the household. It was strange, getting to know someone else was more of a challenge than he had expected but he found himself enjoying it. There was more to the bodyguard's smile just as there was more to his own scowl; he had no doubt that the guy was a bit of an idiot but he had a lot more to him than that, there was a story to tell that made Lovino dream of escape from the confines of the city. Antonio's simple country life was something he could have seen himself living if he had no responsibilities or a little brother to lie him down; he was all too aware this was not the case but hearing about his life was as close as he would allow himself to get.

"My _abuelo_ bought Thiago and I instruments when I was about six." The bodyguard smiled fondly at the memory. "He taught us to play from scratch. Thiago was never as fond of his albogue in the same way I was with my guitar, but as a family we loved music. To this day I've never seen a better palmista than my brother, all the girls loved him."

Antonio laughed loudly one memory or another and swivelled his body so he was leaning towards Lovino eagerly, his guitar placed neatly on his lap, music forgotten for now. Lovino did not mind, the conversation was just as entertaining. "You remind me of my grandfather Lovi. He was far too proud to admit he really wanted us to play and always went on about us making a racket. He worked as a farrier all his life, he made a living making and shoeing horses, and it damaged his ears. After my grandmother died he couldn't live with his ears ringing all the time so he taught us to play to fill the gap."

He nattered on about his grandparents and his life back home as Lovino's own thoughts trailed off. He wished his Grandfather could have been that considerate, growing up Roma Vargas had always been a shadow like presence in his life. Never really there to play with him but always on hand to punish him when he stepped out of line; sitting wrong, picking on his brother, doing pastimes he deemed useless. His grandfather was a strict man and was not afraid to show it. And he had never known any different, whereas Antonio had parents back home along with an extended family. How could their two very different lives cross now?

As Antonio chatted, his hands moving around through the air to emphasise his point, Lovino couldn't help but stare at the fine lines of his face. His bodyguard was admittedly a good looking guy; he could have had the pick of any beautiful woman in his home town, hell even in this town. His only downside was that he was pretty poor, but that was his only catch. On the other hand, he was friendly, good with people and kids, enjoyed doing menial chores and was a looker to top it off. What on earth was he wasting his time in this house for?

The Spaniard's large green eyes were suddenly closer than comfortable. "Hey, Lovi, you with me? I asked you a question, you were spaced out. Is your headache back again?"

He sniffed hard through his nose and pushed the other man away easily, a blush rising to his cheeks. "I was not spaced out, bastard, I was just thinking. What was the question?"

"I asked you what your family was like." Antonio replied patiently, sitting back on his heels like a child awaiting a story. He cocked his head to one side a little, unknowingly completing the image. "I know your parents are dead and it's just you, your grandfather and your brother but I'd like to know more. You've asked questions, now it's time for me to ask some of my own."

"Why?" Lovino's tone came out a lot more affronted than he intended and so he quickly added, "My life isn't interesting, really."

Antonio blinked at him and his eyes widened as if he had suddenly grown two heads. "Because I'm interested. And I would like to know more about you, all we ever talk about it me."

"Because you live with me, moron." Lovino reminded him with a shake of his head but he thought deeply about what to say, unsure where to start or how to make his boring life sound as beautiful and vibrant as Antonio's. He had only ever lived abroad as a child and they had only gone the next state over for week long holidays. He had spent his whole life was trapped inside this little city, and in the house.

Luckily it seemed that the bodyguard had a few questions he had previously hidden from him as he quickly jumped in, "Why don't you start with your childhood, I barely know anything about you and Feli growing up and I can't help but be curious. You obviously had a very different upbringing to mine."

Lovino couldn't help but snort at the comment. "We went to school and everything like a normal kids, just because we're well off doesn't mean we didn't have to do that crap. Grandpa took us out to the park and things; we played sport, learnt music."

"And were you always so grumpy?" Lovino couldn't help but hit the other man lightly on the side of his head for the rudeness, his cheeks blazing. But the bodyguard just laughed and waved him off.

"I'm sorry," Antonio chuckled, his green eyes watering slightly with suppressed laughter and looking anything but sorry. "I just couldn't resist. I can just see you with the same little scowl on your face wandering around the house as a chubby little toddler, cheeks just as round as they are now, ordering all the servants to do your bidding. How sweet."

The image he created was repulsive rather than sweet and so far from the truth that it made Lovino scowl. He'd never 'ordered' people around as a child, Elizabeta and Roderich had been his friends and playmates when Feliciano had been too busy with his naps. And he had never been a commanding presence, most of his childhood was a blur of learning to sit correctly and discipline. He had always been reminded he had a duty to perform when he was old enough and his early years had been wasted on waiting for that day with trepidation. It was Feliciano who had the run of the house, not him.

"Well the jokes on you, I never lived in this house as a toddler." Lovino huffed, turning back to his work furiously picking up the pen and scribbling on the paper as though it had caused him personal harm. Beside him Antonio looked thoughtful and then a dawning expression grew on his face.

"You moved here when you were older than that?" He quizzed, leaning forward slightly. "You lived in another city before this?"

Lovino vaguely recalled their first meeting and of telling Antonio the white lie that he had never lived in Italy. At the time it seemed unimportant, he had believed he would not be seeing him again anyway, but then Antonio had turned up at his house for good. Since it had not seemed overly important to correct him.

"I lied when we first met, I have been to Italy." Lovino admitted with a wince. The other man was silent and allowed him to go on; a brief look of shock flickering on his features was the only sign of a reaction to the lie. "I don't actually remember it much, just flashes really. I remember the house more than my parents, and the garden more than the house. And, the accident that killed them happened down the road."

"We lived on a slope." He continued, feeling the story rise in him, unable to stop and Antonio listened intently beside him completely silent now. "I remember it as very earthy colours; I think it must have been quite far up somewhere, in the hills. I used to be able to see the city from my window, or the nearest town at least, all lit up gold and glowing at night like a giant firefly in the earth. That day we were meant to be going on a road trip somewhere, probably into the town for the weekly shopping. Feli and I were in the back, my parents and Marcello where in the front. He was on my mother's lap."

"Your baby brother?" Antonio asked solemnly. He was no longer smiling and looked strangely thoughtful. Lovino nodded in reply, although it was more of a twitch of the head than anything else.

"We were all so very young at the time, Feliciano was only two and Marcello was barely one." Antonio hissed slightly and he carried on as though it had not happened, the story rolling forward in its course, much like the tyres on the dusty road. "I was five. I don't really remember all of what happened, my memory's a little hazy from back then as it is but I recall we were going down the hill as normal and suddenly my parents started to panic. The hills in Italy are dangerous to drive on, tight corners and long drops to the ground below and we were going way too fast to be safe. I remember the trees speeding past the window in a blur and my parents shouting."

"Is that what you see in your nightmares?" The Spaniard hushed after a pause. The conversation did not match the bright and cheerful sun that still leaked through the window and Lovino felt a shiver run up his spine as he shook his head slowly. In his mind's eye he saw the smoke figures and the air constricted around his chest as it always did.

"No, I usually see the crash, the smoke and the burning. Sometimes I hear Feliciano crying and I can't breathe. The car's brakes had failed and it hit the rock face, my parents were killed instantly along with Marcello."

The memory, usually hidden away perfectly beneath his consciousness, flashed briefly across his mind. His parents unmoving in the front seat as smoke poured into the cabin from the bonnet. The acidic smell of burning rubber, the flash of sparks from the gear box. He had been unable to move at the time and could barely turn his head to look at his brother who whimpered pitifully in shock, not knowing how to cry, the full impact of what had just happened not quite hitting his infant mind just yet. Lovino remembered trying to move to get to him, and the pain it had caused in his chest had made his vision waver to black and he had passed out, shouts drawing closer just as he had shut his eyes.

There was a very pregnant pause where Lovino barely dared to look up from his work to look at Antonio. These were the cold, hard facts of his life, and usually they did not bother him, but retelling the story to someone else always put him on edge and made him feel like he was being judged. It made the events more real, opening them up to self scrutiny as well as scrutiny from the outside world. The thought that the Russian group could have done that to him and his brother made him feel sick.

"That's horrible." Antonio whispered aghast, his face pale. "Then what happened?"

Lovino sighed.

"Some farmers were close by and got us out of the car, I don't really remember them but Grandpa says they were on their way to the fields when they saw the crash and rushed to help." He sighed again. "After that it's a blur until the trip over here on the ship. I'd broken a few ribs in the crash and Feliciano had minor concussion. We stayed in the hospital until Grandpa picked us up, by then he'd already sorted out the move and we had taken his last name instead of our father's."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the bodyguard pull a face as if he'd just been forced to suck on a lemon.

"Why did he change your names?" He asked, shocked.

Lovino shrugged and noticed he'd got one of the numbers wrong on the paper and quickly moved to rectify it with a grumble. "It made his guardianship a whole lot easier to sort out. My father's name was Marcus Bianchi, my mother was Rosabella-Sophia. Grandpa liked long names and he made sure we all had good Italian ones when we were born, he chose my mother's if you can't tell. To give us his last name just made more sense if we were to live with him. It makes no difference to me, it's just a name."

"You seem very distant from them, your parents." Antonio commented sadly. Lovino did not look up but thought deeply about his words as he surveyed the paper before him for any more errors. He knew he shouldn't have had a conversation while working, it caused him to make mistakes but he could not stop himself now. It was almost like a tonic talking to the Spaniard, his easy way of listening and his lack of judgement opened him up a little, perhaps too much and his mouth ran away with him before he could stop it.

"I never really knew them." Lovino admitted. A part of him wondered if this knowledge saddened him; after all he had never known what it was like to have a proper family like Antonio did, his memories of his mother were so minute they hardly felt worthy. He remembered her long hair and soft voice but that was all, there was nothing beyond that and his grandfather barely spoke about her, his own daughter. He did not have the memories about school or cooking that his bodyguard did. His hand gripped the pen in his grasp hard, his mind overcome by thoughts; if they hadn't died, if they hadn't been killed would his life have been the same? Would he be doing these sums right now? Or would he have a normal job and a normal life? The Russians had robbed him of that-

Lovino's hand burned and stretched uncomfortably suddenly and he yelped, throwing down the pen as his hand flared in agony. The cramp was so bad it made him hiss out loud as he waved the limb through the air, doing nothing to help it.

"Shit!" He swore. He had been holding the pen too tightly. This was what he got for having heartfelt conversations with his stupid bodyguard who watched his reaction in shock, finally coming back to himself when Lovino's hand waved dangerously close to his face. In one swift movement he had stood and grabbed it, seating himself down on the desk on top of Lovino's work before he could protest. With soft hands he gently kneaded the flailing muscle, his eyes as intent as they had been while playing his guitar. Lovino felt his face heat up and his mouth went suddenly dry.

He only realised he had not drawn a breath when Antonio chuckled lightly, the hand he was holding bobbing at the movement. "It can't hurt that much anymore surely."

He was tempted to snatch his hand back but the massage was doing its job and working the pain out of his limb.

"It hurt enough, thanks." He growled, allowing Antonio to do his job even though he felt as awkward as hell. It was one thing helping him get dressed but physical contact was not something he enjoyed with many people. He cringed every time his own brother hugged him, but for some reason he did not feel as tense as normal with the Spaniard's tan hands around his own and it unnerved him. "Watch your mouth."

Antonio nodded and looked up slyly through his hair that fell into his eyes. It needed cutting but he did not seem to notice or care, a smile quirking at the corners of his lips at the familiar rudeness of Lovino's tone but his eyes turned thoughtful as he looked deeply at him. He was sat very close. The attention made Lovino squirm slightly, giving him the feeling the bodyguard was staring into his very soul but somehow he managed to return the gaze with a scowl.

"It's impolite to stare, bastard." He said, his voice croaking shakily out rather than the demanding tone his had aimed for. Damn, what the hell was wrong with him? Antonio's stare did not let up but his eyebrows drew together slightly as he considered him even more.

"It's okay to be upset about your parents, Lovi." Antonio said quietly. Lovino opened his mouth to complain about the nickname but he cut across him lightly. "I know if it was me that no time could ever lessen the feeling of their loss to me. It's okay to be upset. You don't have to put up a front for me; not now, not ever, okay?"

The words rang deep, it was if all his walls had been seen straight through but he still choked, "Who says I'm putting up a front?"

It was the only way he could save face, to act rude and harsh and prove his every statement correct.

Antonio's fingers moved in a light caress on his hand, he wasn't even looking at what he was doing anymore, his eyes fixed onto Lovino's. He felt as if he was drowning in their green depths and for a moment his breath caught in his throat, his every instinct told him to move away, that Antonio was too close, but he was frozen in his seat.

"You always have a front up," The bodyguard replied. He too seemed suddenly very tense as he realised how close they were but could also not move away, his hands moving robotically at Lovino's hand as if he was on autopilot. His eyes looked slightly too large and panicked as he spoke. "It's like hitting a wall sometimes. I know you don't mean it, it's how you are but sometimes I wish-"

"You wish what?" Lovino murmured, his mouth barely moving. Antonio licked his lips as he struggled to find the words, his hands halting and tightening slightly in his palm. He did not like where this was going, his whole body was yelling at him to move away but he just couldn't muster the will to do it. A smaller, darker part of his mind wanted to hear what the other man had to say and stick out the situation to find out what would happen.

"I wish you'd let me in a little more." The Spaniard said sincerely, his face worried even as the words left his mouth as though expecting a backlash from his charge. Lovino searched for the anger within himself, attempted to muster it but it was not there. It was as if the words had opened up the man before him in a whole new light, everything about him suddenly came into fine detail; his eyes green and overwhelming, his cheeks flushed slightly, his lips usually curled in a smile now sat tense and waiting. Lovino's stomach bubbled nervously as Antonio seemed to draw in closer.

"I-" His voice wavered as he attempted to respond. His mind tried fruitlessly to attempt words as Antonio's hands trailed up his arm, pulling him in further-

The door to his bedroom suddenly creaked open slowly, the sound brought Lovino back into the room with a crash and he pulled away from Antonio faster than light, so fast that he had to stumble to his feet to save himself falling to the floor. His face lit up in shame and horror as his eyes jumped to the door but he was met by the sight of Elizabeta's back as she pushed the door open with her rear, her hands too full of freshly laundered clothes to use the handle. As she turned into the room her eyes widened in shock.

"Oh Lovino! I didn't think anyone was in here it was so quiet. Roderich and I just got back and I remembered I needed to put these clothes in your room." She smiled between him and Antonio but at the sight of his reddening face and Antonio's matching pale one a crease of confusion formed between her thin eyebrows. "Is something the matter?"

_Oh God, what if she had seen? How could he not have heard them return? Shit-_

"You shouldn't be carrying heavy loads like that when you're pregnant. How could you be so irresponsible?" Lovino found himself snapping. His voice was still hoarse and he found he could not meet her, or his bodyguard's eye. He felt sick with himself: what on earth had he nearly done? It was a horrible mistake, it wouldn't happen again. "Give them to Antonio and go away."

A look of hurt, painful to the eye, flashed across her face at his tone of address. He was known for raising his voice but he never shouted at women, especially not Elizabeta. She was his friend. The confusion layered beneath the shock was almost as bad as the wide eyed stares from Antonio's side of the room. He writhed internally and bunched his fists together in frustration. He was shouting at his friends now; it was all that idiot's fault. If he hadn't tried to open him up- Damn it those walls were in place for a reason. Shit, shit. Now look what had happened, he had almost-

"But Lovi..." Elizabeta started tearfully and he snapped.

"Do as you're told!" Lovino yelled, glaring down at her and she flinched. There was something horribly familiar in his tone he did not like and he knew that in that second he sounded exactly like his Grandfather when he was not getting his own way. His own fear was reflected back at him and he felt disgusted with himself even more. The shame he felt rose and he had to get away, away from her scared eyes and Antonio's shocked stares from the desk where he remained frozen as though turned to stone by what he had almost allowed.

"Excuse me." Lovino said tersely, pushing past her and out into the corridor, the cool air burned against his hot face. Panic and tears clouded his vision and he blindly found the bathroom where he slammed the door shut, locking it behind him. Mortified, he sunk down onto the tiled floor, his head in his hands. Lovino bit his lip to hold back a scream, so hard he tasted blood in his mouth. Realisation hit him like a train at what he had almost taken part in, the guilt making him shake and want to punch the wall; he made do with pounding the floor instead weakly, but still causing blood to rise to the surface of his skin, bruises surely surfacing for the next morning.

It had meant nothing, he assured himself. They had been lost in the moment, it had been Antonio's fault. Of course it was his fault, Lovino wasn't- he couldn't be. He was a Catholic, it was wrong. Moreover he did not feel that way. Definitely not, he had just been caught up in the moment and that was all. He should have never let it get that far.

And Lovino had yelled at his friend for his own mistake. He felt vile, disgusting, filthy at what he had almost allowed to happen to him, what he would have taken part in if Elizabeta had not have entered. He had made a fool out of himself now. Shit-

There was a knock at the door above his head and Antonio's voice called through the wood.

"Lovino, please come out." He seemed to be trying to keep his voice down in the quietness of the house but to him it sounded as if he was shouting. "Elizabeta is upset and I think we should talk-"

"We've done enough talking!" Lovino shouted back, his pitch rising in panic. He shoved his face into his hands and prayed for the other man to go away, to leave the house and never come back so he would not be reminded of his shame. He shook pathetically at the memory. "Just leave me alone!"

There was a long pause and then the sound of shoes softly clipping across tiles as the bodyguard left him to his own devices. Lovino whimpered and curled in on himself, hunching up his body at the foot of the door as the silence once again returned to him and he cursed it silently.

What on earth had he done?

oOo

**abuelo- grandfather**  
><strong>albogue- a type of wind instrument from spain<strong>  
><strong>palmista- hard to explain but these are the people who clap and set the beat in flamenco music by clapping and stamping their feet.<strong>

**The music Antonio plays is flamenco music and is called Malagueña Malaguena. I will post up the link on my profile for anyone interested. Personally i think it's beautiful :)**

**So the first hinting of the ship? At chapter 26, oh dear... but it's a slow road from here folks. I have to keep in mind the time period and stuff so welcome to the denial stage for a few chapters.**

**Thank you to my beta for not messing up with this copy ;) haha and for putting up with my constant whining that I was doing it all wrong.**

**Quick request guys! I've posted up a Harry Potter crossover or hetalia, it's not actually a proper crossover but rather the Hetalia characters wandering around hogwarts as students. It's very different to the mafia story but the first drabble is spamano so please take a look and review :) it would make mine and my co-writers day :D **

**Thanks :D please review and sorry it took so long to update!**


	27. Apprehended

**Don't know why this took me so long. I finished Arthur's part really quick but then the second half took me a while :I ah well, here it is anyway. Thanks to my beta for the title because lazy writer is lazy ;D  
><strong>  
><strong>Thank you so much to all the people who reviewed last time and alertedfavourited! A lot of guests! Special thanks cos I can't reply properly xD haha AND thanks for the people who went to read my pottertalia story :D**

**Disclaimer- Hetalia doesn't belong to me**

**oOo  
><strong>

Arthur loved the thrill he got from being on a job more than the chase itself. Hunting down criminals was tedious work, fraught with dead ends and lost causes. At first it made the blood burn with the primal instinct of the hunt, but after a long time the feeling of excitement wore off, leaving a bitter taste in the mouth. On the job it was another matter, the moment of capture was sweetly resting on the tip of his tongue ready to be consumed and enjoyed. Arthur could almost taste the moment sliding down the back of his throat, as cool and as refreshing as a pint of cider on a warm, summer day.

And it was certainly a warm day. There was a breeze flowing through the city, holding in it the earthy tang of the river; but when the breeze vanished as it often did for minutes at a time the sun bore down on them. Many people that passed the parked car where Arthur sat with William had red, dazed faces and blinked like new born children in the sunlight. Either that or they stuck to the shadows to avoid the heat. They were lucky to have had parked the car on an avenue studded with leafy trees, having managed to wrangle the place before another driver had got there, who promptly proceeded to make rude hand gestures as he sped away.

"No manners in this city," William had commented as he pulled his body back inside the car after returning the gesture with his own shouts through the window. Two old women who had been passing on the pavement stared at him open mouthed, their violently painted crimson lips tugged in matching, quivering pouts of disgust. Arthur had shook his head at the irony, tipped his hats at the ladies in apology and had taken to staring across the street at the large building before them.

The Gold Rush Hotel was a large, six story establishment in the prospering part of town that had no homeless or down and outs loitering on the street corners. The front of the building was white washed and clean, and the golden effect doors and windows gleamed harshly in the summer sun like new pennies. Impeccably dressed men and women breezed in and out of those doors, all smiling and all suspects in the case. Anyone of them, Arthur realised, could be pulling a deal, spreading some news, taking a message. God only knew how many workers Roma had in the town. He had to resist the urge to run out and stop all of them to demand to check them.

Soon though, he reminded himself in order to stay seated, soon Roma wouldn't have any accomplices. At the thought, Arthur tightened his fist in anticipation as it sat on his tapping leg. Beside him William was quiet, his eyes also fixed on the road and the building as both men waited for the signal.

"Makes me miss front line work, this does." The eldest sighed deeply into the silence. Arthur blinked and looked back at his brother who winked knowingly. "Sure the pay is good, nothing's gonna sneak up on you behind a desk, and the lasses like a man who can afford to line their wardrobes, but there's nothing like working out on the streets, eh?"

Arthur scoffed, turning back to the hotel with a shake of his head. "You aren't even married you fool."

"Details, little brother." William said with a wave of his hand, and a wide smirk on his face. "But you know what I mean though."

Of course he knew what he meant. Arthur was at the stage in his career where he could easily move up the ranks but he was unwilling to allow himself to do so; to move up meant to lose his already limited street time. Running a project here in America meant he could at least see some of the action, whereas back home in England they would had been a bit stricter. It was one of the main pushing factors that had made him choose to up heave his and Peter's lives and move all the way across the Atlantic: that and the death of his first wife.

"There!" William suddenly said beside him, making him jump. Arthur followed his hand across the road where a car had stopped by the roadside and five men got out, two other cars following them to slide to the edge of the pavement with a screech of tires. The figures, undistinguishable in their plain clothes at such a distance, moved in towards the front door of the hotel that lead to the lobby. Arthur's heart beat widely in his chest at the sight and his hand fumbled over his clothing to check he had everything; gun, badge. He would need them all.

_God, this better go to plan and work_. It was such a large building, things were bound to go wrong but he had thought ahead. But this raid was as well planned and oiled as clockwork, and they had the element of surprise on their side.

Now it was his turn.

"Come on." He ordered, pushing open the door and hurrying out of the car. William jumped out of the car just as quick, obviously just as eager to get stuck in as his brother. The two of them strode across the street, ignoring the beep of the cars on the road and the stares of the people on the street at the event starting to unfold before their eyes. There were now three cars lining the roadside outside the hotel, and as the Kirkland brothers drew closer Arthur could distinctly make out the sound of Lars and Vash shouting orders at the workers of the hotel. The two brothers shared an excited glance and sped up their pace.

Inside the hotel it was much cooler than the street and filled with the sounds of raised voices. The guests who were being herded downstairs and into the dining hall from their rooms were a mixture of affronted and frightened as they tried to work out what was going on. They had not yet started to conflict with the officers which was good, it would be easier for them to remain calm to aid the procedure. Dotted around the room were scared looking workers, maids, waiters, who looked terrified at the orders barked at them by the men who combed the place looking for anything that might link the building to Vargas. Of course it would need a proper, extensive search but the men brushed the surface for the time being; it was a gauge of how easy the rest would be to find, chips of gems on the top meant that there would be gold buried below. And if the workers were frightened of a police raid, then it meant something was being hidden. All of the guests and especially the workers stared heavily at the bulges of guns that were not hidden away behind officers' clothes with apprehension and it was probably for this reason they were doing as they were told.

Yet there were still raised voices cutting through the chill air of the lobby. Both Lars and Vash were arguing heatedly with a man in a suit at the desk who didn't seem to care for the appearance of so many policemen in the room. Arthur's mind, which had been jumping around the room, surveying the opulence of it with a cold dislike as he compared it to his own shabby apartment, honed in on the conversation and he headed in that direction. His shoes clipped out a rhythm against the floor that was echoed by William who followed behind him without a word.

"I don't care for all this." The man at the desk was saying as they drew closer. He had a thick Australian lilt to his voice that was strained with anger, his green eyes flashing with fury at the two men that stood immobile before him. One of his hands rested on the back of the desk chair while the other gestured widely. "I don't give a toss what you boys think you are doing, but this is my establishment and I will not have you lot mucking it up! Warrant or not-"

"So you're the owner, eh?" Arthur demanded as he neared the group. Vash and Lars moved to one side to allow him to face the other man who was slightly taller and leaner than himself. "I am Arthur Kirkland and these are my men. Who are you?"

"Call me Kyle." The hotel owner sneered without holding out his hand. Instead he crossed them before his chest and narrowed his eyes at Arthur with suspicion. "Look, I'm not quite sure what you're doing here, or what you think you'll find _Artie,_ but this is a legit business and you're scaring away my customers."

Even William cringed at the use of the pet name as his brother swelled slightly in rage before him.

"That will be Inspector to you." Arthur snarled, squaring up to Kyle and flanked by Lars who was at least a head taller than the suspect. Arthur had to give it to the hotel owner; he could keep a straight face. There was nothing in his demeanour that suggested anything was off about him; he just seemed annoyed at their intrusion in his building. "And we have a warrant to search this establishment to look for anything that may link you, or any of your employees to a Mister Roma Vargas. Do you know the name?"

"Can't say I do." Kyle drawled and shrugged. Around them the remaining guests were being gathered up into the dining hall and men were hurrying upstairs to check their rooms, the other half of the force already spotted around the room checking through draws. There was an overall clattering sound that filled the lofty area as the men looked everywhere for the clues that Arthur knew were somewhere, only waiting to be found.

William seemed to be thinking along the same lines.

"Captain, Detective." The Scotsman ordered to Lars and Vash, who nodded in his direction in acknowledgement. "You have done very well here; please assist the other men in the search of the outer rooms. They'll appreciate an extra pair of hands who know what to look for, remember the details from the debrief and keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary."

"Yes, Superintendent." Lars growled as Vash clicked his heels together and gave a brief salute. Arthur had to marvel in the loyalty and respect the two men had for his brother's command as they walked away in the direction of the dining room, calling to lower ranking men to assist them in their search. Kyle watched them go with a blank mask but beneath his eyes a flicker of doubt passed through the green before disappearing.

So there was definitely something here, Arthur dived in.

"So how did you come into managing this hotel?" He asked, getting straight into questioning to save time for later. William fished into his jacket pockets, pulling out first a lighter and a rolled cigarette which he lit and stuck into his mouth. Then he extracted a small notepad and pencil to take notes, all the while puffing away at the roll-up clamped between his teeth. "Seems a big business for just one man."

"It was my father's hotel." Kyle replied stiffly, his arms still crossed and his tone abrasive. "When he died he left it to me and my brother to run, but he moved out, so now it's just me."

Another source perhaps? Arthur thought as William jotted down the information with an obvious question mark alongside. "Where is this other brother of yours now?"

"No idea. Iwi hasn't been in contact for months."

William scribbled down the name, his green eyes on the paper before him and the vile smelling smoke drifting from his mouth like that of a dragon. He raised one eyebrow doubtfully in the hotel owner's direction. "Seems a big place for just one of you to manage," he commented wryly.

"We get by well enough thanks." Kyle responded narrowing his eyes. "I fail to see what bearing my finances have on your investigations, officers. You were looking for this man, right? Well he doesn't work here, and he's certainly not one of the guests. It seems you have wasted your time."

_Liar_. There was a strain to Kyle's voice now that Arthur couldn't help but to enjoy, it meant they were getting somewhere. There was no way such a big place could be run on the sole earnings of one individual, not without the help of some larger force: namely that of Vargas himself. It seemed exactly his sort of venture, to part own a hotel and take a percentage of the income in exchange for the building to carry on running. Small side deals would be easy to perform in the fancy rooms, hidden away behind opulence and finery. It was a lot cleaner and safer than his usual workings, Arthur would give him that, but even a criminal like Roma who surrounded himself with death needed something easy to fall back on that gave him pocket money. Nice place for little Lovino or whatever else the other kid was called to start up business perhaps one day. Looking once around the room he knew that the gold and paint was merely hiding a festering sore on the city, one that given time could turn into something a lot more dangerous. It needed to be removed-

His musings were cut short by the sound of raised voices coming from the inner dining room. The small view of the guests that the glass doors allowed showed it wasn't them but rather something they were all looking at with shock. Beside them Kyle paled and moments later Vash and Lars returned with the men they had taken, looking triumphant as they held a dark skinned man between them who seemed to be struggling to get away, his brown eyes wide.

"Ah, struth." Kyle moaned and sank down into the nearest chair, no longer able to keep up his façade, leaving him shaking and pale.

"Well what do we have here, eh?" Arthur grinned, his fingers itching to get out his badge and arrest both men on the spot but he had to go through the niceties first.

Vash looked something other than brooding for once and seemed pleased as he shook the man's meaty arm that rested in his grip slightly. "He says his name is Carlos. We found him in a bar. Downstairs. Tonnes of alcohol Inspector, a speakeasy without a doubt."

This was it, he had him now. Vargas was one business down and he would know it. Arthur couldn't help but smile widely at the room of officers in general in happiness, and he grinned down at Carlos who stared back up at him defiantly.

"Take these two men to the cars." He ordered, the words like water to a thirsty man, filling his stomach with pleasant warmth as he was finally able to say them after all this time. "And read them their rights. Then take them to the station and make sure they call their boss and tell him that Arthur Kirkland was the one to catch them, and he's coming for him next."

His eyes met Kyle's once more, as he stood up to be cuffed like a man heading to the gallows. It was only a matter of time before all the rotten men in this city were captured and Roma's rule was drawing to its close: Arthur could feel it in his bones.

oOo

Roderich hated it when the boss worked late outside the house. As of late, the family would all sit and eat their evening meal together which had been good because they were easier to serve and clean up after. But now they were back to the usual method of Mr Vargas arriving too late to eat with everyone else and thus eating alone in his office. It had been this way for many years, the two boys eating while the older man worked and barely seeing each other apart from crossing in the corridors. Being the butler, it was Roderich's job wait on him alone for a good agonising half hour where he stood by the desk in silence listening to the other man chew, watched from the shadows by his shadow of a bodyguard.

Yet today it was only Roderich and Roma in the olive green room, Viktor was downstairs discussing the travel to the church for the next day and how everyone would get there in their one car. What with the added presence of all the bodyguards it was now difficult to transport everyone so he was sorting that out with the quiet driver. The silence in the room was deafening and Roderich barely dared to breathe, all he could do was watch his boss's dark haired head as it bobbed low towards the table, the sound of him chewing audible in the quietness. The dark walls were oppressive and the room held a cold edge to it that the rest of the house lacked in the summer months; yet he would rather take the midday heat than stay there any longer than he was required to.

Roderich gripped the bottle of wine tightly to his chest, his eyes fixed on Roma's stooped back. Once again, his mind wandered to the situation he had got himself into. Roderich dreaded to think what the other man would do if he knew his own butler had been selling information out to the police. He was so lucky to be still standing, a breath of doubt and he would end up the same way as his father.

Hadn't he been desperate? He watched with narrowed eyes as Roma took a long sip of the red, bloodlike wine, chapping his lips together disgustingly as he returned the glass to the table. Of course he had been desperate, he had not wanted to bring the misfortune of this life onto his unborn child but now he saw he couldn't escape.

Even though he had a chance now he could not take it. It would be so easy without Viktor watching his every move to simply slam the bottle of wine over the bastard's head and watch his brains run into the floor he himself spent hours cleaning. So easy to watch his last breaths without remorse and run from the room, the house, the city. His hands twitched in anticipation but his mind stopped him.

It would be stupid, and he already risked himself so much. He had not called the police just as he had promised Elizabeta but he couldn't help but feel the need to do something to try to save his family. But he was at a lost cause; all he could hope for now was-

"How were the boys at dinner, Roderich?" Roma asked suddenly from the desk, bringing him back into the room like a smack to the face. He raised his eyes to meet the boss's gold ones which stared at him curiously, the older man's mouth working away as he chewed a particularly stubborn piece of beef.

"Master Feliciano was fine, sir." He explained softly, he did not want to raise his voice. It just seemed so wrong in the office that he barely dared to speak at all but no answer would have resulted in a punishment. He shivered slightly in disgust as Roma removed the piece of fat with his large fingers, throwing it onto the plate with a grunt. "But he missed his brother; he said it was lonely eating on his own."

Roma's fork hit the plate, the fine click of metal on pot cutting through the air like a knife.

"And why wasn't Lovino eating?" It was anger rather than concern that Roderich read in the older man's tone.

Roderich couldn't help but feel he was ratting out the older boy as he spoke up. "He was, sir. He just said he had too much work to do to go downstairs so I brought him something up after we'd finished with Master Feliciano." He added hastily, rushing to fill in the gaps lest Roma raged.

He did not add that the food had been barely touched, nor did he add that the older boy had looked pale and drawn, and as worried as Roderich currently felt. He had of course heard from Elizabeta about their little tiff, she had been very upset that Lovino had spoken to her like that and it was one of the reasons why Roderich had offered to take up the food. He had wanted words with the eldest brother for shouting at his wife but at the sight of the boy all words had died on his lips. There was something horrid Lovino was hiding, something much more than there had been before today, and he did not know what; although the butler could not help but notice that the ever present Antonio had not been in the room with his charge. In fact it had taken his verbal assurance at the door that it was not the bodyguard trying to get in to the room. He was certainly acting strange, perhaps they had argued again? Or maybe the stress of the business had finally got to him, it wouldn't have been surprising. Roderich pitied the boy, he really did.

At his words Roma visibly relaxed, the fire that had been building in the furnace of his eyes gradually losing its lustre and dying to coals as he smiled.

"Such a good boy," he commented with pride, the smile decorating his lips like a trophy. "He is a pride to bring up, so obedient and well behaved. I pray that you receive such a child Roderich. He is a pleasure to work with."

Roderich hummed in answer but Roma was on a roll now and chatted openly to him, not seeing the tenseness it created in his butler's jaw.

"The boys were a lot more easier to rear than their mother." He commented thoughtfully, turning back to his plate to play with the remaining food, pushing it around with the knife and creating a grating sound. "She was just like my wife, so very headstrong and beautiful I could never punish her. You cannot be as forceful with young girls as you can with boys. She would just not _meld_ herself to me. I have been very fortunate that Lovino and Feliciano have been so malleable to my needs and have become the perfect grandchildren. I often worry what they would have been like after spending so much time with their mother and father."

He gave a short laugh as if he found something funny. The butler stared at him in horror as he did so, his stomach turning at the older man's words. He was rotten, Roderich realised, vile and blackened to the core. These were people he was talking about, not things to fit to his own desires! Did he even love them? His hands shook at the thought. Roderich was fond of the boys; they were like his little brothers in a way. He might have placed himself and Elizabeta higher in priority but he still cared deeply about them. If he was more powerful he would have helped them to escape too but talking to Roma now showed him the man's influence over them was not something he could easily break. They would do anything for him, because Roma was their grandfather and he 'loved' them, and they him. The two brother's knew no different, why would they?

He would never treat his child like he had seen Roma treat the boys. Never.

"Such good children." Roma repeated softly. He opened his mouth to say more but at that moment the door burst open and Viktor stormed in like a winter storm, his usual, cold business composure cracked and his icy eyes worried. Roderich jumped at the suddenness of the entry: he had not even heard the other man's approach on the corridor he had been so stunned by the boss' words but now he was uneasy. Viktor was always polite, why would he burst in now?

The bodyguard stopped in his tracks before the desk at the same moment the large doors closed behind him with a coffin lid like bang. His voice was slightly out of breath as he spoke. "My apologises, Sir, but there has been an incident."

There was a long painful silence. Roderich could almost feel his own breath catch in his throat as he waited to find out what had gone wrong. His mind assumed the worst of course: one of the men was dead or a shipment had been taken. Perhaps the gang war with the Russian's had begun before the boss' preparations were complete. But then again, what if this was not about the business?

Was Elizabeta okay? His hands sweated in panic as his mind went into overdrive, oh god had she gone into labour-?

"What is wrong?" Roma asked, pushing away his finished meal and clenching his hands together in fists on the desk before him. Viktor lowered his head apologetically.

"The Gold Rush Hotel has been taken by the police." The bodyguard explained, his tone measured as if fearing instant backlash for being a barer of such bad news. "Kyle and the other workers have been taken into custody. They found the speakeasy and the shipment, Sir. The officers have closed the place down."

An even longer silence followed, this one more dangerous than the one before. The words hung in the air like poisoned gasp, hanging above Roderich's head like a guillotine ready to fall. He could almost feel the kiss of cool metal on the back of his neck as he began to sweat. His hand, still holding the wine bottle shook slightly even as he tried to pull himself together. It was worse than he thought. Roderich had not thought the police would act so quickly to move in on Roma, he had believed they would wait until they had more proof. Most of all he had thought they would wait until he was out of the way.

He was in danger now, damn what was he meant to do? And Elizabeta too, he had brought her and the child into this mess; if anything happened to them it would be his fault. He knew that the boss didn't like to do any funny business where women and children were involved but he would not put it past Roma to throw them onto the streets. Roderich had to keep calm, he didn't know enough to jump to conclusions yet, Roma might not care about the cause-

"How did they know?" Roma asked, his voice strained with anger. His knuckles on the table were a bright white. Every one of his words was adding to the pressure of the room, choking Roderich and making him sweat harder, his heart beating so fast he thought it might burst through his chest, giving the whole truth away entirely. Of course he would care, how stupid of him.

"I do not have the answer to that, Sir." Viktor muttered and for a second his eyes flicked in the direction of the corner Roderich stood in making his heart falter in panic. _Would he say anything? Shit, shit_- "We can only assume there is a leak somewhere in the ranks."

"Never." Roma disagreed suddenly, standing up to pace by the fireplace in the room. His eyes were dark and concerned as his foots thudded rhythmically to the floor like the beat of a heart. Roderich didn't want to look in his direction in case the boss could see the gleam of guilt in his eyes, but his gaze was drawn in his direction nonetheless. "I trust all of my men; no one has cause to rat me out to the police. I, am Roma Vargas. There must be another explanation, Viktor."

"Sir, I do not think-" The bodyguard started to argue but he was cut across.

"Silence!" Roma snapped and Viktor's mouth shut as quickly as it had opened. The Italian boss waved his hand through the air as he spoke, dismissing the conversation. "We must not think about how it happened yet, only what we are going to do about it. How do you know? Has Sadiq heard something?"

Viktor shook his head, his voice more weary when he next spoke. "Kyle called from the police station."

Roderich flinched as Roma stopped in his pacing to glare at his bodyguard, the anger rising to the surface of his eyes, his hands in fists by his side.

"He knows not to call the house!" He growled out in frustration. He was angry, so very angry but somehow he was holding it all in. He was good at that, the last time Roderich had seen him so mad was when Lovino had been attacked and that had been much worse. Roma was evidently trying to keep a level business head to sort out the problem but slip ups in the ranks pushed his buttons further.

"It was a forwarded message." Viktor quickly amended. Roderich couldn't help but feel a hint of satisfaction under his panic as he watched the usually stoic blond be put to the test and fumble. "Kyle sent the message through the ladder; it was Mathias who called and explained what had happened. The name Arthur Kirkland popped up, it seemed he was the man in charge of the force that took them."

A thoughtful expression dawned on Roma's face and he leaned back onto his heels before resuming his pacing in silence. Viktor watched his movements patiently, and Roderich with trepidation. Surely Roma would be able to sense something was wrong with him, the way his hands jerked the bottle around in panic, his rapid breath. He needed to leave the room; damn he needed to leave the house. It could only be a matter of time before Roma turned his attention away from what to do to find out the root cause for the loss. For now maybe he was safe, but for how long? He had really done it in for himself this time.

The elder Vargas stopped his pacing and threw himself down on the nearest armchair with a sigh. He looked older than he usually did, almost his age as his back hunched over the seat and his hands wrung together as he mused. After a moment Viktor broke the silence.

"What do you suggest we do?" He asked, returning to his emotionless, measured voice while his eyes were like frozen ice: cold and dangerous.

"First things first." Roma said decisively, leaning back in his chair. "Someone needs to see this Kirkland fellow. His name rings a bell but I can't for the life of me remember where, so for now send some of the boys to persuade him to leave the case be. And if polite words don't work we'll go from there. I cannot allow this man to interfere in my business for any longer and we'll have to resort to other methods to make him get the message that I am not to be messed with."

So they would buy him out or bury him. Over the years Roderich had seen and heard about many people who had refused the safe option and found themselves in a lot of trouble. He doubted he would get the same choice. Shit, he really needed to get out of this city fast. Time was running out.

"And the cause for all this mess?" Viktor asked, his cold eyes once again darting to Roderich's corner. He gulped in response.

"Roderich?"

The butler jumped as his name was called, his mouth turning dry when Roma clicked his fingers at him to draw closer, his golden eyes like that of a lion watching its prey.

Maybe he was just messing with him; perhaps he knew it was him after all. Oh god he was going to get shot. He was going to die. He had been so stupid thinking he could take down this empire with a few hidden secrets; Roma was way too powerful for him alone to remove. The boss would never fall under the hand of a servant and now he was going to die. With quaking legs he pushed forward towards the beaconing hand that drew him closer-

And was surprised when an empty wine glass was thrust in his direction. The boss had picked it up from the table as he'd panicked and he only saw it now he was close enough. Roma very rarely drank except with some meals and it was usually just one glass at a time. Another glass showed his frustration at the situation and the need to drown out the world.

With a shaking hand Roderich did as bid and poured the red liquid into the glass.

"If this is a police matter then it will be dealt with." Roma replied thoughtfully, watching the wine make its way into the cup with his golden burning eyes. "But if it is a leak then in will be filled. I won't allow it in my ranks, Viktor. They all know what happens to those who cheat, there is no way back from that."

Roderich held back a whimper and was almost happy to retreat back into his lowly corner when he'd finished his task, ready to be called on again whenever the boss deemed it necessary. They were all pawns in his game and he was willing to sacrifice them all, Roderich would be next now. He saw that it was only a matter of time and he shook pitifully in the shadow of the corner where no one could see. And Elizabeta, what part would she play in all of this?

"As you wish, Sir." Viktor muttered with a stiff bow, his eyes flicking once more in Roderich's direction before leaving him for good.

_Now what would he do?_

**oOo**_  
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**Dunno if this was any good, feedback please? :) means a lot and I really appreicate everything you guys say.**

**Please check out my pottertalia too :D Thanks**

**Well the story is progressing quite fast now, after this chapter there will be a lot of outcomes and answers from things that have been building up from the other chapters. So all of the characters are going to get their moments soon ;) lots of stuff planned guys! Buckle up! I should be able to get the next chapter part way done next week, but after that I'm on holiday for a week in Edinburgh. It's a big chapter so it might not be done until I get back, although I'm taking a notepad with me to write parts while I'm travelling (six hours I may die!)_  
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**So until then much love and thanks for reading :D**


	28. The Cracks in the Porcelain Vase

**I'll be brief with my author notes and leave most of them while the end for you guys to read. As an excuse for this being so late, there is none and I'm so sorry. Thank you to everyone who favourited and commented while I was AWOL :) it was so nice getting support to write more, and they made me feel very guilty!**

**Anyway, here is the long awaited chapter. Hetalia does not belong to me.**

oOo

The successful capture of one of Roma's top business ventures, and some of his men to boot, had put Arthur in a good mood that he could not shake himself out of. _There was nothing in the __world right now, _he thought,_ that could put a dampener on the rest of this week_. The grin on his face was genuine and bright; a lot more brighter than the morning sun which shone down weakly on him and William as they made their way into the office. It was a cool morning; a surprising touch of autumn had finally reached the city from across the river and the breeze that lifted the brim of their hats was brisk. A group of scantily clad women in knee length dresses passing the Kirkland brothers were holding onto their cloche hats to stop them being taken away by the wind and laughing breathlessly.

"You'd think these modern girls wanted every day to be summer, just to show a bit of leg off." William commented, blowing out a mouthful of smoke and copping an eyeful of one of the girls anyway. He gave her a cheeky wink which sent her and her friends into fits of giggles. "Not that I'm complaining mind."

"What _would_ mother say?" Arthur scolded with a small chuckle. It was no wonder his brother had never married. "I bet she doesn't approve of such behaviour, William. You're meant to be a gentleman after all. Tut tut."

His brother snorted and kicked a pebble that lay at his feet. "Mother is much more concerned with Patricia and her 'red' to be bothered to fret over her eldest. The most she bothers these days is dinners to try to hook me up with all the eligible singles in the neighbourhood, who frankly could do with a diet and a half rather than a husband. To be honest with you Arthur, I think she's finally given up hope."

Arthur couldn't help but laugh out loud as they turned into the police headquarters' large entrance hall, his voice echoing off the cream coloured marble staircase. It was cooler in the hall and slightly too bright, the overhead lights more white than actual sunlight could ever be. A few of the officers around the hall stared at him openly, surprised that the usually grumpy Englishman actually had shown an emotion other than annoyance and had done it so loudly. He really must have been in a good mood. Arthur felt like he was flying, riding weightlessly on the feelings of success._ No nothing could dampen his day._ Even the sight of Vash stomping towards them was not enough to put a downer on his day.

"Sirs." He nodded crisply in greeting, his green eyes focused and hard as always. Vash was never one to take work as anything but serious. "One of you couldn't help me out, could you? Anri's out on duty with Lars and there's a bunch of paperwork to fetch from the head office to sort through, I don't think I can carry it all on my own."

_Eurgh, more paperwork. As if there wasn't already enough. But it was fine, _Arthur reminded himself_, he had captured a speakeasy. Life was good right __now;__ he could handle some puny notes and signings. Or at least he would do __them without complaining._

"Sure, I'll give you a hand." William smiled, cutting across Arthur before he could speak. He turned to his brother with a sly grin adorning his face, a look that always made his brother want to punch him. "Artie here can get the coffee ready for the real men when they get back."

Arthur scowled deeply as the two men retreated quickly from him and towards the double doors that lead to the nerve centre of the offices, the hub where all the paperwork was kept. Okay, perhaps he wasn't that happy that his brother's taunting didn't still irritate him, but he would have to reach enlightenment for that and he had given up God years ago. William waved cheekily at him behind Vash's back; looking as pleased as the cat that had the cream because he had one over on him. Childishly, the younger Kirkland sent him the finger, putting venom in the action as he stabbed upwards like a knife. There was a polite but disgruntled cough behind him; one of the senior officers who by chance happened to walk down the stairs at that very moment had caught him in the act. He did not look pleased, his moustache bristled in anger. Arthur was suddenly aware of all the looks he was getting and blushed deeply, with a quick apologetic smile in the elder man's direction he scurried towards the familiar stairs taking them two at a time.

The building was an old one and had the simple layout it had been built with. There were separate floors for each department, each being accessible through the main staircase that ran up the rear of the building like the upright back of the law that led off to the hive of offices. When he had first been sent to this forces' headquarters, Arthur had been unimpressed by the look of the building. He had not liked the fancy marble in the entrance hall that just screamed pretentious, or the way that the actual offices were lacking the grandeur the rest of the décor offered. But after a while the dirty, messy little building had grown on him. Arthur made his way up the staircase, up and up until he got to the fourth floor, nodding at the people he passed who returned the gesture with smiles. They must have heard of his capture because a few of the men he knew well sent warm congratulations his way which lingered behind his back, following him comfortably to the office which was half hidden at the end of the long corridor. With a large smile decorating his face he pushed open the door-

And stopped in his tracks in the doorway.

"Oh, I'm sorry." He said automatically at the sight of the two unfamiliar men in his office. They lounged easily by the desks as though they were meant to be there yet they were total strangers to him. Perhaps a meeting he had forgotten about? "I didn't realise anyone was in here. This is my team's office, is there something I can help you with?"

It was not unusual for lackeys from the higher ups to be sent with messages for him, nor was it unusual for rookies to wander into the office as they attempted to find their own in the vast building. These men looked like neither. One of the men rose slightly to meet him. He was very tall, and had quite dark skin and inky black eyes that measured Arthur up in a short, calculated gaze. What he found must have not been to his tastes because he smirked making Arthur straighten up a little and narrow his own gaze in defence. _Just who were these men?_

"You must be Mr Kirkland." The man grinned, placing his hands on his hips and leaning back to survey him better. "Well, I certainly thought you'd be taller and beefier with the headache you're giving the boss!"

He barked out a laugh as Arthur took in his words._ His boss?_ Warning sirens went off in his head as the other man also stood up; he was smaller than the other and looked on his companion with barely veiled dislike. His hair was also dark and he had a hint of a Mediterranean complexion, darkened most likely by the recent nice weather.

"You're not here to chat, Sadiq." The man scolded, his voice softer than Arthur expected what with the fire of hate burning in his eyes. "Hurry up and give the message before I do your job for you."

"Shut it, driver boy! I'm not being paid to listen to your mouth Heracles; I much prefer the sound of my own voice, thanks." The man, Sadiq, snarled in response before turning back on Arthur with a forced smile. "Listen here Inspector; we have a proposition for you from our boss. I'm sure you know who we mean."

Arthur couldn't help but feel his heart stop as he put all the factors together quickly in his head. Roma: who else could it be? He faintly remembered the call from Roderich warning them of a Sadiq, this was obviously the same man. One that Roma had called in as backup. Arthur felt his muscles freeze up in anticipation of attack, even though these men did not seem to have any intentions of going for him. Yet. They were too far away for a one on one fight but it did not mean they were not carrying weapons, it wasn't their style anyway. How the strangers had got past the halls of officers unnoticed was beyond him. His mind ran over itself as it thought of ways out of this situation, all as unlikely as the next.

"And if you don't mind _gentleman_," he used the term loosely as he opened the door wide behind him. "I would like for you to leave. I want nothing that man has to offer, thank you very much."

It was a shot in the dark at the very at least; one he didn't think would work and so was only slightly disappointed Sadiq shook his head while Heracles looked at Arthur with pity, the look you would give a lamb about to be sent to the slaughter house. It was not a good sign.

"Now, I don't think that you really want that to happen, Mr Kirkland." Sadiq laughed. In a silky movement he had placed himself back on top of the desk; the man moved with all the elegance and slyness of a snake. And Arthur did not like snakes. With one long hand Sadiq reached out to fiddle with a pen in one of the pots, his graceful fingers twirling through the air.

"We promised the boss we'd give you the offer," He explained waving the hand with the pen in a little. "It's best to hear us out before you make any decisions you might grow to regret. We're offering you a choice here man, you're better off listening to it."

Arthur didn't want to hear a word these men had to say but they were persuasive bastards. Besides wasn't this proof he was getting too close for comfort to Roma? Despite himself he spoke, briskly: "Well then? What is it your boss wants?"

He made his way over to his desk; it was the only one so full of paper and resources that the two men could not make it their perch to watch down on him from. Arthur pulled out his chair and took a seat, knowing full well it would give him a serious height disadvantage if anything went wrong but he didn't want to show these bullies he was scared. Sadiq appraised him with a cocky smirk before continuing.

"Here's the deal." He drawled. "Drop the case."

Well that much was obvious._ Roma would hardly be inviting me around for supper, now would he?_ Arthur had to resist the urge to roll his eyes: that would be unprofessional. "I gathered that much. And my options?"

"Either you drop the case, and there is money in it for you if you do-"

"Or we drop you." Heracles cut to the chase before Sadiq could finish.

The darker man scowled in his companion's direction as Arthur let this new information sink in. _Death __threats already?_ Roma was either really stressed out by the police interference or he was a man who didn't mess around. He knew from experience how territorial and dangerous Roma and his men could be when pushed, and the fact that Arthur was receiving this message filled him with a certain shade of sickly pride. He was scaring Roma, making him threaten him with vengeance if he did not stop his enquiries. It meant he was stepping on the tail of a lion and he was happy with that. It meant after all these years his work was finally coming to its climax.

"Good." Arthur hissed. The two men, who had been bickering under their breaths while he thought, turned around at his address with similar looks of confusion on their faces.

"What do you mean 'good'?" Sadiq quizzed looking put off.

Arthur nodded and folded his hands in front of him on the desk to hide the fact they shook a little. His whole body had previously pulsed with the happiness of the capture of Roma's men, but now he felt the chilling bite of fear at his heart. Arthur was not an idiot, he knew what this decision could mean for him and his team but he was willing to take that chance. He_ had_ to take the chance.

"It means, gentleman, that I look forward to whatever Roma Vargas can throw at me." Arthur's face formed into a smirk before he could stop it. The men looked at him as though he was mad. "I refuse to drop this case."

Sadiq looked as though Arthur had picked up his desk and thrown it at him, his features a mixture of shock and growing anger now the brunt edge of the Inspector's declaration was wearing off. "Are you crazy or something fella? Or perhaps you don't quite understand the choice you are making-"

"On the contrary, I know exactly what I'm doing." It was stupid and dangerous but Arthur would be damned if he would be bought out of a case he had devoted the best part of his life to. The case to stop his brother's murderer, a man who had to be stopped at all costs.

There was a sudden clatter at the doorway making the three men look around as William and Vash made their way into the room, their arms full of towers of paperwork. When they had opened the door they had been chatting good naturedly but as soon as they saw the strange men they stopped in their tracks and stared. Arthur's brother gave him a long, hard look that spoke volumes before returning his gaze suspiciously to the two men.

"Ah, William, Captain." Arthur said, trying to keep his tone good-natured even though his heart was pounding in his chest. "These men are here to give us a message from our dear friend, Mr Vargas. I have had to unfortunately decline their very reasonable offer."

"You are mad." Sadiq said in disbelief.

William advanced into the room, dumping his paperwork on a table with a bang so he could turn and fold his arms at the intruders. His eyes were narrowed with dislike and Arthur could see him restraining himself from grabbing his badge and arresting them on the spot. They could not of course arrest these men; there was no proof to warrant the arrest. Besides, he was not after the small fry these men were. He had bigger fish to catch and the little fish were always cast back into the sea.

"Our boss isn't messing around you know." Heracles added, unlike Sadiq he did not seem as shocked and his eyes were focused and cool as they challenged him with little consideration for the other officers in the room. "If you mess with the family, he will mess with you-"

"Are you threatening the Inspector?" Vash snapped, stomping forward to place himself between the two men and Arthur. His tone was dangerous and if he didn't have a pile of papers in his arms he would have surely have been fingering the gun clearly visible at his hip.

He was glad; the one thing Arthur did not want was a shoot out in his office: he'd just had the floor waxed.

"Stand down, Captain." He ordered, rising swiftly to stop any fight before it occurred. "There is no problem here, these men were just leaving."

Sadiq looked for a moment as if he wanted to spit in his direction as a response but he must have decided better, his dark eyes quickly calculating the situation. It was three against one and he probably didn't want to push his chances. Sadiq sniffed loudly and left without another word, Heracles trailing on his heels after a moment's pause where he threw Arthur a telling green glare before sliding out too, as though neither of them had ever been in the room. All the strength seemed to leave Arthur suddenly and he found himself slumping in his chair slightly; the realisation of what he had done hitting him. He had put off his men at risk, especially himself. He knew exactly what Roma was capable of and he still did it. He had uncovered the speakeasy; it couldn't be too long now until the rest fell.

"Well boys," he spoke into the deathly silence that the men had left in their wake. William and Vash looked towards him with wide and scared eyes that did nothing to quell the rising terror in his gut. "It seems our man has caught our scent. Time is of the essence now; either we get to him, or he'll get us first. Let's try for the first one, shall we?"

oOo

The cooler edge to the weather the Sunday morning air brought made the church neither as oppressive nor as stuffy as it had been a week ago, yet it was still uncomfortably warm and poorly ventilated. It did not help that the room was too small to hold the mass of people that listened to the congregation. Once again, the aisles were so full that the members were spilling out onto the sides. It was always crowded in the small room, partly due to its size and the fact that it was the only Catholic church for a mile or so within the city. The congregation still flocked together every Sunday, even though the place was a dump and the pastor about as friendly as a plank of wood.

Lovino, however, was glad at the change in weather and also the liberty his Grandfather had allowed him in not forcing him to wear his best, and warmest suit. Instead he wore one of his own choice which was looser fitting and more suited to the hot weather. Grandpa Roma had made sure as soon as they had taken their seats that he was comfortable, saying that he 'didn't want a repeat of the week before'. He was placed at the end of the isle with Antonio by his side to allow him to get more air and was told to inform him the moment he felt funny. He couldn't really tell him the actual reason he had collapsed last week, so instead nodded politely and promised he would.

The room was cool but it was uncomfortable with the bodyguard's presence by his side. Lovino had not spoken to Antonio since he had been in the bathroom the night before, ignoring his pleading at the door and his meaningful stares over breakfast. He refused to even look at him, although his eyes found themselves travelling up to his face to gauge his emotions. Had last night been playing on Antonio's mind as much as his own? Was guilt written plainly over all of his features? The answer seemed to be no. The bodyguard watched the congregation resolutely, a professional crease formed between his eyes due to his focus; however Antonio didn't seem to notice the stares he was getting from his charge now and for some reason this thoroughly irritated Lovino who took to watching the choir get ready for their performance.

Silently he fumed over the situation as through the smell of the incense and the stifling air, Lovino viewed the familiar figure get into place amongst the other white clad boys. Feliciano was easily one of the oldest of the group, but was still marginally smaller than most of the boys and in result had to be placed in the centre of the group. Or so he said anyway, Lovino knew it was favouritism, he also knew that Ludwig was not far away from his charge even though he could not see the blond boy which was slightly unnerving for him. It was far too like Viktor for his own tastes.

Scipio droned on as the choir took their places as quietly as possible, their long white robes with the high collars drawing everyone's attention away from the pew and to the back of the room anyway. Feliciano caught his brother's eyes grinned and waved enthusiastically; some of the congregation who knew the Vargas brothers well smiled fondly in their direction at the show of affection. Lovino on the other hand scowled and nodded his head a fraction in response, not liking to draw attention to himself. His grandfather on the other hand waved back from his position down the pew, a large smile adorning his face.

"And now to end, the choir will sing for us," Scipio declared in his usual mournful tones. He was paler than usual and Lovino couldn't help but notice one of his under-eyes seemed a little darker than the others as though he had been hit in the face with a blunt object. He had been too focused on his own worries to notice. The pastor slid away so that the choir were the main attraction in the hall. "Please stand for _Jesu Dulcis Memoria_."

Lovino stood on the command and the row did with him; there was a moment of clatter and noise as people's feet bumped along the floor, and then a perfect silence. No voices filled the room, and even the sounds of the city dimmed into obscurity. In one collective heave the choir drew breath and began singing.

Lovino had always been struck with the simplicity of the choir, as a child he had wanted to join them but he was found to unruly for the cause. They had no accompaniment apart from the sounds of their own voices, no music to carry them forward. Like a vast organ the singular parts worked together in harmony as one living instrument. And of course, there was his brother at the head of the machine, his voice rising beautifully above all the others in the prayers to God.

"_Jesu dulcis memoria, dans vera cordis gaudia._"

There was a certain serenity to the music that Lovino relished. The contemplation it inspired on every face was enough to make him truly listen to the song and its meanings. God would always be there for him. Beside him, Antonio's eyes were wide with childlike awe and his lips formed a perfect circle. Lovino didn't want to look at him in that moment, not with a holy song playing, but his gaze was drawn in that direction none the less. He tried to tell himself he was curious about the other man's reaction to such music: music he had never really experienced. In the natural lighting of the church Antonio was as handsome as ever. He was focused on the performance, or at least he seemed to be. A small nudge touched Lovino's hand making him look down in surprise. Antonio's hand pushed him again, and Lovino was able to see the slip of paper he was attempting to pass him.

He shook his head slightly and set his focus resolutely on Feliciano at the front, singing away without a care in the world. _No way, not a chance_.Lovino would not accept notes in church of all places, especially not from his bodyguard, and definitely not after what had happened the night before. It would be asking for trouble.

"_Quam bonus te quaerentibus, sed quid invientibus_."

But the hand with the paper hit him once more with an irritating urgency that Lovino had no choice but to snatch it out of the idiot's hand to avoid him making a scene. He glared but did not look at Antonio; instead he glanced down the aisle to check his Grandfather was not watching him taking notes in church like a kid. He wasn't: Roma's gaze was fixed in devotion on his youngest, pride curling his lips. No one else had noticed the interaction; all of them were too busy focusing on the song.

Trying to ignore the satisfied smirk on the part of the Spaniard's face he could see out of the corner of his eyes, he unfolded the sheet of paper. It read,

'Lovi, we need to talk about what happened. It was entirely my fault and it won't happen again, but I can't work with you hating me and hiding in your room... So can we please talk about this? Tonight? Please?'

Conflicted feelings flew through Lovino's mind. His initial reaction was refusal and annoyance. His bodyguard should not be asking him to see him after the events of the night before, not while it was still raw at any rate. The idea of being alone with him in a room and talking about his feelings made him feel vaguely sick, especially in that he had no idea what he would say to the man. What did he have to say out loud that he had not said a hundred times or more in his head?

But then again Antonio was taking the whole damn event upon himself. When it had first happened Lovino had blamed him of course, but after a night of fitful sleep it had dawned on him that it was his fault too. He had allowed it to happen; he had wanted the company. It was as much his fault as the bodyguard's. In that case, yes, they needed to talk. Just to set things straight.

Not for too long of course. He couldn't let things get out of hand again.

"_Sit nostra in te gloria, per cuncta semper saecula. Amen_." The song drew to a close with the final drawn out note before Lovino could realise what was happening. Once again another service finished around him without his notice, people chatting and getting to their feet with a growing crescendo of noise as they exited the small hall and out onto the street. The sounds of the city returned, the throb of motors, the screech of tires and the incessant droning of voices and the pounding of feet.

Lovino glanced to his side and found Antonio watching him, clearly waiting for an answer to his silly little note. With a sigh and a feeling like he was making a very big mistake, Lovino nodded in agreement, crumpling the paper into his pocket before anyone could see it. Antonio beamed but did not speak as a voice beat him to it.

"Did you like it?" Feliciano asked brightly as he bowled himself forward through the throngs of people to meet them as they escaped the pews. Ludwig emerged behind him in such a Victor-eqsue manner that Lovino couldn't help but pull a face which he quickly morphed into a smile in his brother's direction.

"Beautiful as always, _fratell__o_." Lovino assured him as Antonio nodded behind him, which he fruitlessly tried to ignore. "You'll be getting too old to sing though soon, it's a miracle you've managed it this long."

Feliciano giggled and shook his head. The white of the surplice caught the bright light coming from the now open church doors as people exited and almost shone in comparison to his russet hair and large brown eyes. He made the most perfect cherub and Lovino could not imagine his brother being anything other than his innocent self forever.

"Scipio will let me sing until I get really old, he likes me." He tittered, his eyes brightening as their grandfather removed himself from the pew behind Lovino. Feliciano all but pushed his brother out of the way as he jumped on the older man for a hug. "Grandpa! Did you hear? Did you like it?"

"Yes and yes, Feli." Roma said patiently, sharing a long suffering glance over the younger boys head to Lovino who returned it slightly. "You were lovely, _mio caro_."

"_Grazie_!" Feliciano sang while Lovino shook his head. His brother was such an attention seeker sometimes, he knew how good he was but he liked to hear it from their own mouths. He never lied to his brother but it was very draining sometimes.

Roma disentangled himself from his youngest grandson with a smooth motion, a quick pat on the head and a fond smile did the job. "I'm sorry but I need to talk to our pastor urgently. Scipio and I need to chat about something important. Why don't you go and get changed and then me and Lovino will meet you at the car?"

"But I like talking to Scipio too." Feliciano complained with the smallest of pouts at their grandfather, his eyes pleading. "Can't I come?"

Lovino had some sort of insight in regards to the conversation Roma would be planning with the religious man, and it was not something his brother needed to hear. His brother liked the older man, goodness knows why, and he would certainly be upset by the talk the grandfather had planned for him. As of yet he still could not work out what Roma wanted from Scipio but it was certainly not legal or holy. Lovino could not allow his little brother to hear any of that.

"No Feli, this is business." Lovino sent a pleading look in his grandfather's direction who surprisingly took the hint and removed himself from the brothers without another word. Lovino sighed and cast his brother a sombre glance. "It'll be long winded and boring and you won't like it. It'll be better if you just wait in the car for us, or better yet get Heracles to take you home and pick us back up. Then we won't have to wait for the car."

The sensible suggestion seemed to fly over his brother's head. Feliciano's pout became more pronounced and frustrated as he crossed his arms in defiance.

"But that's not fair; I'm part of this family too." He argued. Behind him Ludwig's mouth formed into a thin line as he tried to keep his own temper in control. Lovino had a feeling the expression was not for him but for his brother, sending a surprising surge of gratitude the blond' way. "I want to take part Lovi, please let me. I promise I won't be bored or anything. Besides, Heracles and Sadiq took the car somewhere and Luddy won't want to wait on the pavement. Too dangerous."

Lovino grimaced. Feliciano had no idea what he was talking about, to him the family business was everything their grandfather made it out to be. Fun, good; he had never seen the bad side, never even guessed at it. But Lovino had always known and it was his duty to protect him from the truth.

"You are not old enough to take part in these discussions, Feli." Lovino could feel his frayed patience wearing thin.

Over his brother's shoulder Roma was busy talking to the pastor already. Scipio did not seem to be talking very much and merely watched the older man with cold eyes as Roma gestured good naturedly with his hands. He definitely had some mark of some sort on his face and he did not seem to be hiding it. Lovino knew his grandfather would expect him and if he didn't hurry up, and it was best not to keep him waiting.

Feliciano didn't seem to care about his brother's words. He cocked his head to one side. "But you're allowed to take part and you're only three years older than me."

"Older is the operative word there." He responded with a sigh and attempted to move past his brother to join in the conversation with Scipio before his grandfather got mad. "Please just go back to the car; we can discuss this later-"

His brother's hand shot out to grab his shoulder faster than Lovino had ever seen the younger boy move. His small hand closed around his shoulder joint almost painfully and it stopped him in his tracks. For a brief second the younger of the pair's eyes were dark, but then they softened and turned pleading as they gazed up into his face.

"No, I want to discuss it now." He argued. The grip on his arm was surprisingly tight and Lovino pulled against it slightly. Beside him Antonio moved a little closer, almost blocking his view of his grandfather and boxing Lovino in between everyone. "I don't see why I can't come; I helped out the other day with the business when Kiku visited."

"That was different." Lovino snapped out before he could consider what he was saying. A knot of annoyance built in his stomach before he could seriously consider it. Damn it, why couldn't his brother just do as he was told for once? Couldn't he see that this was for his own good?

Apparently not.

"It was not different." Feliciano mumbled, and his eyes were bright like he might start crying which would not be good. "You nearly chickened out of the deal and I stepped in to help." Lovino blanched back at the word 'chicken' as though it was scalding water. "You were the one not working with the business then Lovi, not me. I deserve to take part in the business."

"No!" The shout flew from Lovino's mouth quickly and desperately. It bounced back off the hall walls and hovered around them. Their Grandfather paid them no mind but Scipio looked up curiously, his blue eyes fixing on them from across the room. Lovino didn't like the audience and turned around so his back was to the pastor, aiming to keep his voice down. "Feli, you don't understand what you are asking. I'm doing this for you. You aren't old enough."

"I'm asking to help my brother out." Feli shook his head slightly, like he could not understand and pulled a sad face. His hands that were still on his shoulders convulsed a little, tightening his grasp so he would not get away. "Why won't you let me? You look tired Lovi, and you're so stressed out with all the work Grandpa is giving you. Why don't you let me take a bit of the load off? I can help like I did with Kiku. Jobs like that are easy to sort out when you talk to people, and you're no good at talking. Let me speak to Scipio, he likes me. I don't mind working for the family."

It was tempting, so very tempting, but the eager look in Feliciano's eye was what turned Lovino off the idea. There was too much glee there. Too much enjoyment at a job that was not meant to be fun. It was true the deal with Scipio would probably be minor, nothing too bad even with the way the pastor was rejecting it, but still he could not risk it getting worse than that. If he allowed his brother to get his foot in this door he would never be free, and he wanted to keep him as innocent as he was now forever.

Lovino forced a smile onto his lips; one that he hoped would pacify his brother a little. He shook his now limp hand off easily and placed his own palms on his brother's shoulders. He remembered a time when he had to crouch to be on eye level with Feliciano, now they were almost the same height. He had grown up without Lovino noticing and the thought hit him deep in the heart.

"Listen Feli, it takes more than talking to people to be part of the business." He tried to ignore the devastated expression that cracked on his brother's porcelain face. If he had to break him to keep him safe, then he would. He just didn't understand it like Lovino did. "It takes-"

He never got to think up a lie of what his brother needed because at that moment Heracles and Sadiq entered the church. They caught Lovino's gaze immediately, they seemed agitated and their muttered bickering seemed more violent than usual. Lovino stopped because they never entered the church unless asked to, Roma liked to keep his religious day clean of business and the sight of these two men brought with it a horrid feeling. Something had gone down somewhere, something was wrong.

"Feli, go and get changed." He ordered stiffly as he stood up straighter. Feliciano did not like being spoken to like that and went to complain but Lovino snapped before he could form a sound.

"Now! This is not up for discussion." He winced internally at how much he sounded like his Grandfather. That was something he never wanted. "You aren't old enough, you're still in school. Just go wait at the car."

Feliciano's expression shattered this time, like smashing a china cup on the floor. His brown eyes stared at Lovino as if he didn't recognise him, his lips quivering slightly. The sight broke the elder Vargas' heart and for a second he stretched out his hand, to reach out and try to fix what he had broken. But then with a strangled sob Feliciano pushed his hand away.

"I'll be old enough." He said suddenly. Lovino saw that behind the tears his brother's face expression was determined, the same one that he saw regularly on his grandfather's face. It had no place on the younger boy's features and it made him flinch, but not as much as the tone of his voice did. There was fire in his brother's eyes as he promised:

"One day I will be old enough, and I will be part of the business. Just you see."

And with a final muffled sob Feliciano turned away, his white robe flapping loudly about his ankles. Ludwig gave Lovino a hard glance as he followed his charge away, but he barely noticed the action, too focused on his brother's retreating back. In trying to look after his brother he had ended up upsetting him and it had been years since they had argued.

"Shit." Lovino swore under his breath, wanting to punch the nearest object. But the nearest object was Antonio and the man was a lot bigger than him and would probably laugh at his feeble attempt at an anger release. Instead he was left with no option but to breathe heavily for a second and go dutifully to his grandfather; he turned in the direction with a heavy heart and made it over in time to hear the end of Sadiq's hushed conversation.

"-and then he said 'no' boss, can you believe it?" He sounded annoyed and Roma seemed to be channelling his feeling, only silently. His golden eyes were dark and sharp like flint as they listened to the man's explanation, only briefly looking up when Lovino and Antonio wandered over.

"And you explained the situation to him?" His Grandfather demanded. Sadiq shrugged.

"Trust me boss, I couldn't have made it any more clearer without basically telling the guy what we would do to him if he refused." Lovino knew then that this was not a conversation he would enjoy. By the sounds of it they had been trying to persuade someone to do something and the individual had refused. He felt sorry for them. You were to never refuse his Grandfather.

Heracles must have been aware of Lovino's apprehensive expression and misread it for confusion because he spoke up softly in his ear.

"We went to see an officer who has been giving your Grandfather a little trouble. He raided the Gold Rush Hotel and closed it down yesterday, name of Kirkland."

Lovino felt all the blood fall from his face and his heartbeat suddenly felt very loud in his ears. Kirkland, as in Arthur Kirkland, the man who he himself had lead to his Grandfather. And now the bombshell that he had taken the largest speakeasy they owned, surely more would follow after Lovino had given him the first rung of the ladder to climb. Would his Grandfather know? Would he be able to tell it was him?

It seemed for the moment Roma hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. When he gazed at Lovino it was with pity rather than anger.

"Now Heracles, I didn't want to tell Lovi until I had sorted this out." He grumbled, stretching out a hand to cup Lovino's paling cheek. His hand felt very warm against his own cold skin. "Now you've upset him."

"Sorry, Mr Vargas." Heracles bowed his head slightly. Lovino finally managed to form words.

"It's not upset me, I'm just shocked." He said, trying to keep his tone light as he quizzed. "What happened Grandpa? I thought the hotel was safe."

Roma's eyes narrowed and he clenched the hand on his face slightly without realising. "I am afraid we might have a leak somewhere. Someone is selling my business out and when I find out who it is they will pay. I will not allow it."

The promise sounded genuine and Lovino hoped his Grandpa could not see the guilt in his eyes and the stains of it on his features. He was the sort of man to keep his promises and he dreaded what the elder man would do to him if he discovered the true identity of the person that had led the police to their door. Grandson or not, he would pay.

Then again, he had not seen Arthur for a while. He most certainly had not revealed any more information to the police without realising, so how on earth had they found out about the hotel? It would need prior knowledge of the building to get them into the speakeasy, so it must be someone else. Lovino was merely a link on a chain; he was not sure if that made him feel any better about the situation. The hotel was still lost, his Grandfather was still mad, and the foolish officer was still in a lot of trouble.

"So what do we do about Kirkland now, boss?" Sadiq asked. There was an eager hint to his tone that made Lovino inwardly cringe and want to leave but with his Grandfather slowly moving his hand from his face to rest at the small of Lovino's back he could do nothing but stay where he was.

"He strikes at me and my family, then I shall strike at his." Roma's voice was grave but authoritative. Lovino could not help but think that it had a hidden meaning between the lines that he could not see. "The first meeting was a warning, now I am not playing games. I have enough on my hands with Braginski and I don't have time to mess around dodging Kirkland too. I want him off the case, as soon as possible."

Sadiq and Heracles nodded, seemingly pleased with the response and turn of events. Lovino on the other hand felt sick. He had not wanted Arthur to get hurt from this; it was partly his fault if anything happened to the man. He had liked him, and he was Alfred's dad. The moron doted on him like a puppy. Innocent people were not meant to be hurt in this.

"Lovino, do you mind if I talk with you for a moment?" Scipio surprised them all by speaking up. He had silently been listening to the conversation with a thoughtful countenance and now his blue eyes were fixed on the younger Vargas' face while everyone else stared at him. Even Roma seemed surprised, but he overcame it quickly to sneer down at the pastor, his features twisted in delight.

"Looks like our holy saviour would like to chat with you, Lovi." He commented, stooping to chuckle in his ear, his breath fingering the lob delicately. His voice was a viscous whisper in his ear. "Perhaps he would be more willing to talk to you about business. Try to win him over." He had to resist a shiver as Roma straightened back up easily, his fingers curling around the hair on Lovino's neck. "We shall leave you then Scipio, until next time."

Scipio did not acknowledge Roma's farewell, the pastor merely stared at the man suspiciously; waiting until his broad back, followed by Heracles and Sadiq who were once again bickering, had disappeared out into the courtyard. Lovino felt stumped, Scipio obviously did not like him, that much he had made clear every time they had spoken. So what on earth could he want with him? Antonio too watched the pastor curiously as he motioned for them to come closer. They did so after a moment's pause.

"You are a hard one to place, Mister Vargas." Scipio said once they were close enough that they could hear his muttered voice. Lovino wasn't quite sure why they needed to be so secretive. Up close the bruise on his face was dark and painful looking, again he wondered what had happened for him to get it. "I thought you were your Grandfather's man through and through but I think I might have been a bit presumptuous. My apologises."

"None taken?" Lovino replied out of courtesy. Beside him Antonio's eyebrows were raised so high they had disappeared behind his low fringe which brushed into his eyes.

"I had believed you did not see the danger of this business." Scipio continued in a grave air. "Or the effect if could have on people. Your brother is an innocent soul, Lovino, and I refuse to stand idly by and watch him be swallowed by the darkness of this world. I am on your side in this."

Of course, this was about Feliciano, who else would it be about? The pastor had doted on him for as long as he had known his brother. It was not surprising that now his consideration was focused on the younger Vargas brother. Lovino knew he should have been angry but he wasn't, for some reason Scipio's words touched him. There was someone out there looking out for his brother too, and to Lovino who was busy with the business, too busy to keep an eye on Feli all the time, it meant a lot. He did not know what Scipio would do exactly or whether it would be helpful but backup was always good to have.

That was if Feliciano ever talked to him again.

How much did this pastor know though? By the thoughtful look in his expression it was clear to see he knew enough. And the mysterious bruises were suspicious in their appearance. How had he, a priest, got bruises that looked round enough to have been caused by a fist rather than foolishly walking into a blunt object?

"Your eye looks sore." Antonio commented, clearly picking up on the same out that Lovino had. The Spaniard's smile was strained on his face. Scipio nodded slightly and continued in his hushed accents.

"Saying no in never a good idea." He said quickly, eyes locking onto Lovino meaningfully as if he was attempting to send a message. "Sometimes a 'no' can be more dangerous than a 'yes'. I feel for you and your brother sir, and the poor, idiotic police officer that dared to refuse your grandfather. I hope you manage to find a way to solve all of our problems."

And with that the pastor had finished. He glided away from them towards the back of the church where his colleagues were waiting for him to finish talking so they could disappear like ghosts into the back of the church. Lovino watched him go, feeling more confused than ever, his heard beating wildly in his chest as though he had just ran a mile. For some reason his words had more meaning than they seemed, and they seemed to be resting a lot of hope on him that he didn't think he could bear.

oOo

"Ah here they are," Yong Soo sighed in relief as he uncovered the tarpaulin covering a selection of boxes that looked identical to the ones around them. "No wonder we couldn't find them. The handlers must have misread the label."

Kiku nodded, it was easily done after all, and counted the boxes in question before ticking off the correct number on the clipboard in his hands. It was late afternoon and the workers that usually filled the main warehouse storage area had left for the day. The room gave off a certain smell at this time of day, no longer filled with the clattering masses and machinery it gave off a colder, unused smell that was only marred by the flowering contents of the boxes. Most of the goods were imports from across the world; spices from Asia, machine parts from Europe. A large majority of the merchandise was from Yao's native China and it was this Yong Soo was rifling through. Stock taking was a major part of the business, but it was left to them to do seeing as half of the staff couldn't speak, let alone read English.

Out of curiosity, Kiku lifted one of the strange looking tubes from the box Yong Soo had opened to check before he had moved onto the next. It was made surprisingly of bamboo leaves and brightly coloured, it had no immediate use that Kiku could figure out and he could only assume it was a novelty gift of some sort.

"What is this?" He inquired. Yong Soo, turned to look at him, his backside up in the air as he bent over the box before him, also filled with an assortment of odd objects.

"It's a Chinese finger trap." He explained as he stood up with a smile. He took the tube from him and pushed the ends together with the palms of his hands so it bent in on itself. "It's a toy for kids or for just pulling pranks on adults, kinda like a puzzle. Yao has them imported for gift shops and tourists; they just lap up the stuff. Make it cheap and sell it big, eh?"

"Indeed." Kiku said. He understood the sales logic but still didn't quite see a point to it. As a child he had never played with toys that weren't in some way beneficial for him and had instead been encouraged to play a lot of sports. A finger trap seemed a silly little object but he could not help but think of his meeting with Feliciano Vargas the other day. The boy, or young man, was the exact opposite of him: a giddy daydreamer that had talked of nothing in particular but also of Kiku and himself (and his poor servant that had watched the one sided conversation with a pained expression). He was certainly interesting to study. He had been thinking of Feliciano and Ludwig for a large part of the day and how it was nice to have such useful acquaintances that already knew the city he was so used to. Kiku knew he would enjoy a second meeting and that Feliciano would enjoy the toy, it was this that made him ask for one.

Yong Soo laughed a little and clapped him on the shoulder in reply, something that made Kiku wince and the smile on his face falter.

"Sure, like I said they're cheap." He said. "But I'm still taking it out of your wages."

"You don't pay my wages." Kiku reminded him in a monotone, a hint of a school teacher in his voice that Yong Soo didn't seem to notice, he was too busy chuckling to himself as he returned to searching the boxes. The person in question who did pay his wages was not far off.

Yao was shuffling amongst the boxes on the other side of the room. He had insisted on helping them take the stock check, going as far as saying that it would be almost impossible to complete without him and that it was his business at the end of the day. The look that Yong Soo had shared with Kiku over the older man's shoulder as he spoke read volumes. Yao was unable to take part in the business like he used to, Yong Soo and the others were practically running it now. It was only Yao's own pride that would not allow him to stop working even though he wasn't really needed. Kiku had not wanted him to help, fearing for him in his sick state, but had not forced the subject and had allowed Yao to help. It was not his place to order around his elder, especially his boss and godfather.

He had not come into the warehouse alone though. Feliks watched him from the second story office that looked out onto the room. During the day it was for the team to keep an eye on the workers, but not it was simply a place to stay and observe without being in the way. Both Feliks and Xiang had taken station in the room, the nurse to watch his charge and the boy to do some of his work. Kiku could just spot the dark hair on his head, peeking out from a point under the window.

"He takes his work seriously." Kiku noted aloud as he and Yong Soo moved onto the next items down the list, Kiku pocketing the finger trap as they did so. "Xiang, I mean."

Yong Soo glanced in the direction of the office window and shrugged before turning back to his work. "He likes to busy himself with his little business. Lording around the warehouse and acting as though he is better than the rest of us because he manages things himself."

Kiku did not respond to the sniping comments and merely lowered his head thoughtfully.

"But then again, he does work really hard." Yong Soo added thoughtfully after a moment. His face was scrunched up in thought, so much it almost looked painful. "And even though he likes to pretend he doesn't care about Yao and the rest of us, his father's illness really shook him up."

"How so?" Kiku was thankful that they had thought to whisper their conversation, it would not be polite for Yao to hear them discussing him, and not good business. He was the boss after all. As it was the sound did not reach the older man as he pottered between the boxes at a distance.

Yong Soo spared a glance in Yao's direction also before continuing.

"Well Xiang and Yao don't really have the best of relationships." He started warily. They continued to work as he spoke, fiddling with the boxes. "Xiang was brought here when his mother, who he had been living with, passed away. Yao wasn't good with the boy from what I could gather, but they got along well enough. As you know, Yao pushed Xiang out of the business when he got old enough, saying he wanted him to make his own way."

Kiku nodded, that much he had gathered. He let his gaze once again flow up to the overhead office to the young man in question who had just stood up to gather papers from a higher shelf. Hadn't turning him away to make him a man turned him against his father in a way that would be irreversible? Or would he one day see that it was all for the best? Xiang seemed pretty stubborn from what Kiku had seem of him, and still as petulant as a child.

"It was dumb if you ask me, but that's what happened." Yong Soo shrugged. He paused in his story to tick something off his list before continuing. "So Xiang started his hat business. He followed the fashion of the times really. It's a small business but he controls all of it really. There's no leaving it to other people, apart from Lien; she hangs around him but that's just running errands."

Kiku remembered the masculine female with distaste. Women were not meant to walk and talk like men, it wasn't right. But then again he had old ideals, just like his father. His mother had been as soft and as delicate as blossom petals, just as he had been brought up to believe all women should be. To see one that was so outwardly confident was off-putting to say the least. America was certainly a whole new world.

"And then Yao fell ill?"

"And then Yao fell ill." Yong Soo agreed with a decisive nod. He straightened up from his bent position over the boxes to look at Kiku with his dark eyes. "It was slow and barely noticeable at first; he would be sick some days without reason and feel weak all the time. Eventually Mei persuaded him to call a doctor, the guy said it was stress and prescribed some medicine. Thing was the business had fallen a little without Yao guiding it as he had been, and the money was too low. So Xiang ventured into the medicine business a little. He helps manage the supply of drugs from Ivan so that Yao doesn't have to deal with him."

Kiku blinked and looked back up to the office, his gaze not totally fixed on the occupants and his mind elsewhere. Xiang was the one dealing with Ivan then, the man who was cold hearted and sadistic enough to threaten to stop giving them the medicine when he did not get his own way. Kiku wondered how a young man Xiang's age could manage such a man as that. And how he had managed to keep the medicine supply going on even after his own slip up when trying to barter with the Russian. He hoped he had not caused any trouble with that, that would be very awkward for everyone.

A sudden terrible noise broke his train of thought. There was a horrific gasp, like the sound of a dying man gasping for his last breath and a shuffling, then a metallic clattering noise that made his head turn to the source. Feliks was rushing full pelt down the stair case from the office, his eyes focused as they fixed onto Yao. He seemed to be struggling to stand up and breathe at the same time. His complexion had turned grey and his whole body flimsy as tissue paper. A thin, paling hand clutched at the material of his clothes above his heart and his eyes bulged in panic. Kiku was moving to help before he realised it, Yong Soo at his side as Yao brought them all closer like a magnet.

Feliks got there first and was lowering Yao to the floor as Kiku skidded to a stop beside them, his heart in his mouth as he took in the sight of his godfather struggling to take a gasp of air, his face pained.

"What did I tell you, Mr Wang?!" Feliks was scolding, his pitch high and irritable. His lazy green eyes were unusually alight with fury and annoyance and he performed his medical acts on the older man. He was busy loosening the folds of Yao's clothes to allow him to breathe better. "I said not to overdo it! And what did you do? This is your own fault, if you'd have just done as I said this wouldn't have happened!"

Yao's dark eyes were still panicked and unfocused but they still managed to look up in shame at his nurse, tears of pain clinging to his eyes. Kiku's worry diminished slightly to be replaced by annoyance. Feliks was not a member of the family, and as a nurse or carer he had no right to speak to Yao as though he was a child. Kiku was all for looking after him, but Yao was a person and an active one at that. However stupid and detrimental to his health, he would still want to work. The business was his whole life. The least Feliks could do would be to show some consideration at least.

It seemed Kiku's own sentiments were not to go unvoiced as in that moment Xiang hurried down the stairs from the office. His face was the picture of horror at the sight of his father on the floor and in pain, but there was also anger in his stern features as he caught the scolding the nurse was giving to him. He walked up right behind the blond and gave him a hard look, almost as if he was contemplating pushing him away from Yao, but instead he spoke:

"Your job is to help my father, not to yell at him."

Feliks turned around quickly to face the other man. Beside him, Yao seemed to be clearing up a little, but still seemed pained. His face was pale and his breathing shallow. Kiku knelt beside him and after a moment's hesitation touched his godfather's hand lightly with his own. It was clammy and shaking and Yao withdrew it before he could feel it any more, his eyes which caught Kiku's own were for once afraid. Yao could not hold his gaze long and soon dropped his eyes to the floor. He never showed weakness and to have had such an outburst of his illness in public must have been utterly humiliating for him. But there was no denying the truth: he was getting worse by the day. Kiku wondered how long this would last, and if his illness would ever give up its hold on him.

"I was, like, hired to look after him." Feliks argued as he straightened up from the crouch he had gone into to help Yao, flicking his hair slightly as he spoke. "I can't do my job properly when my patient refuses to co-operate for his own good."

Beside Kiku, Yong Soo was watching the growing developments with curious eyes, and was for once silent as the grave.

"Ivan might have placed you here." Xiang argued, his voice quivering with rage and his hands shaking by his sides. "But under this house you follow our rules. I don't care who employs you, you'll do as we say; and I'm telling you to watch your mouth."

Feliks bristled in fury and opened his mouth to respond but didn't manage to make his complaint as Kiku cut across him suddenly in a fit of uncontrolled shock. He stood up and stared open mouthed at this new turn of events.

"You work for Ivan?" He asked loudly. Kiku felt instantly ashamed for speaking so out of turn but his mind was more preoccupied at the moment with this information. Ivan was bad news and for him to have a man of his own under their roof filled him with dread for many reasons. There was too much Ivan in this building for his comfort, everywhere he looked he saw his dark influence and he did not like it. It was not good for business.

Looking at Feliks now, was that dark glint to his eye some form of murderous intent? What orders had this man been given in regards to the house?

There was a feeble cough by his side and Kiku looked down to find Yao watching the conversation with wary eyes.

"Ivan knew him through one of his subordinates." Yao mumbled. He seemed to be straining to keep the shake out of his voice and was failing miserably. "Feliks was struggling to get a job elsewhere and Ivan sent him here to me; he needed a job and I needed a nurse who wouldn't charge out of the roof. He's nothing to do with Ivan. And now," he looked over to Feliks. "I think I need to be taken to my room, don't you?"

"Of course, I was getting to that." Feliks replied flippantly, albeit pushing Kiku out of the way so he could get to the elder man on the floor. With a little bit of easing and painful gasps on Yao's side he was up off the floor. There was little ceremony or words before he was carted away out of the room, dragging his slippered feet along the floor like the sound of a wounded animal straining to carry itself from danger.

Kiku, Yong Soo and Xiang watched him go. A quick glance to Xiang's eyes showed them dark and unfocused in thought as he watched his father leave the room without so much as a backwards glance to the son that had defended him. Dejection washed off him in silent waves. With a half masked sigh he turned on his heel and hurried away from them, back into the confines of the office, slamming the door behind him so hard the glass in the office windows shook. Yong Soo and Kiku shared a long meaningful glance that spoke volumes. Everything Kiku had been told by the other was true, there was definitely something wrong with Xiang and Yao's relationship, Kiku just did not know what he could do about it. So, as was his custom, he refrained from speaking, and got on with the remainder of the job, his mind mulling over Ivan's disturbing presence in the household, and how he would rid himself of it.

oOo

**Explantions of why this took so long: I went on holiday, twice. Plus spending time with home friends before returning to university. Lots of reading for university which I had to tackle. Work for university. Preparing to go there, and spending too much money. And just general feeling uninspired. I'm sorry to everyone who was waiting for an update and thought I might have left the story, because I haven't. It just took me a while.**

**The next chapter will probably be the same. Long since are the days I could do nothing and just write, actually have to buckle down this year... :I but I will still be writing when I have free time. Messages are always welcome in this time period, so if you reaaaally need an update and are wondering where it is inbox me and I'll let you know. I am a person too and it takes a while to do these things sometimes :')**

**And in my defense I have had a really busy but enjoyable summer, and I hope this semester to come will be just as good. Thanks again for the support over the summer and continued reviews and adds. You guys are literally as awesome as prussia.**

**And now, a big thank you to WeDon'tKnowEnoughToUnderstand who drew me some beautiful fan art for this story :D I'll post a link it and the song on my profile for people to look at (which I hope you do guys!)**

**For all those that are interested and have not yet noticed (because they don't follow all my stuff or whatever) I have uploaded a new story! It's a one shot and not just a random one I'm trying to sell to you: it actually goes with this series! I will be trying to do a series of one shots and little insights into the story at certain points, but probably when the main story is finished. The one I uploaded is for Birdie and Prussia so take a look and review please :D Let me know what you think and whether there are any more stories you would like to hear. I am currently in the process of planning Roma's backstory which should be a doosey. **

**Oh and well done to Night13 who won the oneshot for 200th review. Darling, I still need you to reply to the message so if you see this please do that :') thankss!  
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**Anyway, thanks once again for waiting patiently for so long. Please drop a review :D and thank you so much for reading! See you next update!**


	29. Firelight and Gunshots

**As promised this took a while to do, so kinda sorry about that but you were warned. I struggled with the pacing a little here. It was one of those chapters where I could have given a lot away but I didn't and it was pretty hard to write. If you notice anything off let me know and I'll see what I can do to fix it.**

**The link to the song played at the being of the chapter is on my profile if anyone is interested. It took me a while to look it up if I'm honest, the records are a little funny from back then but I think this song would be okay :) from the research I did it was in the charts at the time anyway.  
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**Disclaimer- characters are not mine, this is a work of fiction.**

oOo

It was late and the radio was playing Al Jolson again, but Lovino had a sneaking suspicion it was Feliciano channel chasing so that his favourite song was always on. Lovino didn't mind too much, he liked the clear melody and the man's earthy tones as sang about waiting for his lover to call him. It was calming in a way, just to sit and listen to the tinny voice issuing from the speakers without having to think too deeply; he was content for once to let his mind go relatively blank. Besides, when his brother had control of the radio it was by far safer to let him have his own way. The room was lit by the golden glow of the fire in the grate that burnt with the odd pop and snap, it had turned into a chilly night in comparison to the warm day and the room needed the added warmth. The orange light flickered lazily over the golden wireless casing and over the blue walls with lazy ease. Lovino and Feliciano and their respective bodyguard's were the only ones in the living room, them and the sound of Al Jolson's voice on the radio. Antonio and Ludwig were seated at the card table by the window, playing a few hands, their voices lost to Lovino's ears.

He sank further into the armchair; his legs sprawled out in front of him as he took a sip of the cooling warm milk Elizabeta had made for them all before retiring off to bed. She had seemed pale and drawn, and Lovino had not complained even though he knew the servants were not meant to sleep until they themselves had gone to bed. She was pregnant after all, he could not be a tyrant to her, and he knew how she felt: this Sunday had been a long one. When they had returned from the church it was back to working, and of course to worrying about the new developments in the business.

The problem with Arthur was only a minor mishap now Lovino had chance to mull over the loss of the Gold Rush Hotel. The enterprise was a source of income and could possibly link the family to the illegal business carried out in its lofty halls. If the police found any links to them it would be very difficult to get out of. It seemed a likely possibility there was a leak somewhere in the business. This information was horrifying and shocking, never before had there been a problem in the business so dangerous to them all. Lovino hoped it would be sorted for his Grandfather's sake, but at the same time he dreaded to think how it would be plugged.

He shivered, and out of the corner of his eye he noticed Feliciano's gaze flick briefly up to him and back down onto his paper. Ever since they had come back into the house they had settled on a silent agreement not to talk about the argument they had; for once the pair were sat without the younger chatting away to the elder. Antonio and Ludwig sent worried glances over their card game as if this new development was strange in some way. And it was, sort of; Lovino knew that he had to allow his brother a cool off period before he could talk to him properly. It was annoying and slow, but necessary. Before then, they would sit together in silence. The younger of the two was currently cheerfully drawing onto a pad of paper under the light of the lamps they had lit in the darkened room. The sound of the scratch of pencil on paper and Feliciano's light voice signing mixed in with Al Jolson.

"_All alone, I'm so all alone_." Feliciano sang as Lovino took another swig of drink. He could feel his eyes closing involuntarily as the warmth and the music washed over him, the only thing keeping him from dropping off was the thoughts that flew through his head, keeping the gears turning over and over. Lovino felt anxious and on edge, millions of problems and ideas coming to mind each one more horrible than the next. The problems with the police he himself had draw to the family. The hotel. His own workload. And then there was Feliciano who he had upset; how on earth would he fix that one? Lovino sat up straighter and stretched warily at the same time Ludwig split from Antonio to come to stand by Feliciano. His height was intimidating as ever and his face stern as he stared down impatiently.

"Master Vargas, I think it's time you were in bed." Ludwig informed him in gravely tones. Feliciano turned to look at the bodyguard with a grin on his face and his eyes pleading like a puppy begging for food from the dinner table.

"I wanted to finish my picture, Luddy, can't I stay up a little longer?" He half pleaded, his voice coming back to its normal loud volume now he was being spoken to. Ludwig did not seem impressed.

"_Nein_." The bodyguard shook his head clearly and folded his arms. "It is almost midnight and you have to be up at eight sharp. A body needs the right amount of sleep for you to learn properly and I will not stand for tardiness in the morning. Bed please, Sir."

Lovino had to resist snorting in laughter at Ludwig's sergeant-major like tones, but they did the trick. Feliciano sighed and began the slow process of packing up his art equipment, his lower lip jutting out but without further complaint. In a way Ludwig was suited to Lovino's younger brother, he seemed the only one that was able to handle him any case. If it meant he had to talk to him like he did, Lovino didn't mind. He knew from experience that a cranky, tired Feli was not half as pleasant as one that had enough sleep. Talking of sleep, a yawn flew unbidden from his mouth.

Ludwig glanced at him with a stern eye. "I think you should be off soon too, Sir."

"Let him finish his drink first, Ludwig." Antonio laughed as he came over from his own seat, clapping the tall blond on the back in a friendly gesture a wide smile on his face. He did not look at Lovino but he felt as if there was some hidden message to his next words. "Don't worry; I'll stay up until Sleeping Beauty here has had his beddie time milk. You take Feli to sleep."

"Hey bastard, I'm right here!" Lovino snapped embarrassed, throwing a pillow at the idiot's face who had the audacity to laugh and throw it back, although a lot lighter than he had initially done so. Ludwig watched the exchange haughtily as Feliciano giggled, sealing up his art case with a final snap. He picked it up and deposited it into his bodyguard's waiting arms before waltzing over to Lovino. In a quick movement, his brother had swooped down and kissed him lightly on both cheeks, before leaning back and smiling at him.

"_Buono notte_, Lovi." He said. "_Dormi bene_."

"And you, Feli." Lovino replied, returning his brother's smile, if somewhat more strained. His brother was angry at him still, but it seemed he was forgiven enough to merit his kindness and that was enough to rid him of the worry he had been harbouring. "_Sogni d'oro_."

"Come on now, Master Feliciano." Ludwig grunted impatiently as he moved to steer him away. For a split second Feliciano looked as if he would argue back, but then the grin that had slipped from his face hitched back up like a tie being adjusted around a neck. With a little chatter and a slight skip in his step, the youngest Vargas was ushered from the room and the door closed behind them, leaving only the pop of the fire and the hum of wireless. With a glance in Lovino's direction, Antonio moved to turn it off as his charge rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. When Lovino next looked up the music was gone and Antonio was looking down at him expectantly, the fire lighting him up from behind.

And that was when he remembered their promised talk that he had agreed to at the church. He inwardly cursed.

"Let's get this over with quickly," he snapped, gesturing to the seat opposite him. He chose to pretend he had not forgotten, even though it was bound to happen with everything else going on around him. Another worry to his many piles, what the hell. "I want to sleep sometime today you know."

The bodyguard nodded eagerly and sat himself down on the offered chair. His back did not touch the seat back as if he was considering leaping from it and straight at him. It was off-putting and Lovino found himself sitting backwards to get further away and clutching his glass of milk protectively before him with two hands on his lap.

"I think-" he started at the same time Antonio started: "I'm sorry-". There was a painfully awkward long moment where they stared at each other, waiting for the other to start. Antonio's gaze was long and unwavering, his expression honest. Lovino just felt flushed. _Damn it and fuck_.

"Why don't you start?" Lovino mumbled quickly, sipping his drink out of need of something to do with his hands even though it churned his stomach. He did not like talking to people like this, especially not with Antonio after what happened before. But the bodyguard had seemed to earnestly want to talk to him. He personally would have been happier forgetting the whole thing. Wasn't it both of their faults?

Antonio took a deep breath. "I wish to apologise for what happened, Lovino. It was entirely my fault and I take full responsibility for my actions-"

"Yes, yes, I've heard this bit already." Lovino interrupted before Antonio could get into full flow. One thing he would not be having is the idiot taking all the blame onto himself, not when it was him too. Now he remembered why he wanted to talk to him. The Spaniard looked at him with wide, confused eyes while he himself blushed. "And it's not true; I played my part in the mess. Let's just forget it ever happened."

There was a pause.

"You're serious?" Antonio sounded uncertain, as if he thought Lovino was testing him in some way. That of course annoyed the hell out of him; he had better things to do with his time than mess around with this idiot. Namely sleep.

"Damn right I'm serious." He growled in response, once again taking a swig of his drink. The milk was going cold again now but he drank it anyway, nervously. "Why would I lie, dummy? I don't like to think about it, remember that-"

He half choked on the words, unable to get the out of his mouth. Antonio looked at him with something close to pity.

"We almost kissed?" He supplied. Lovino almost punched him in the jaw right then, his hand spasming on his lap but he restrained himself from doing anything drastic.

"Do _not_ say that out loud." He hissed, tightly gripping the glass in his hand. He knew no one was awake and that no one could possibly hear their low conversation unless they were stood right at the door but it couldn't not help to be cautious. He did not want his dark secret repeated outside this room: it was too damaging to allow. He listened closely for any sound, his gaze fixed on the door as if expecting his Grandfather to burst in. But there was only silence and guilt.

Out of the corner of his eye, Antonio lowered his head submissively at his harsh tone and Lovino felt terrible. He knew this was difficult for him, but for the bodyguard? Much worse. What did Lovino have to lose as the almost-master of the house? What did Antonio have to lose? Everything: one word from his grandfather would mean that the Spaniard would be out on the street (possibly for the second time) and without a job in the whole city. At least here the guy had a place to stay, no matter how dangerous it could be.

Lovino could have been more considerate, this was just as embarrassing as it was for Antonio as it was for him.

"I'm sorry." Lovino muttered after a pause, Antonio's green eyes finding their way to his own slowly. "I just- I-"

"It's okay." He replied quietly, the smile ever present on his lips. "I understand this might be hard for you."

Lovino bristled at the truthful words. He was the one meant to be understanding here, not the other way around. "Who said it was hard for me, bastard?"

Antonio laughed, once and clear like the ringing of a bell. The sound was music to Lovino's ears; it was so bright and optimistic, something usually devoid from his own life except in his brother who was usually busy these days. Surely he had laughed like that himself once?

"No one of course." Antonio chuckled bringing him out of his musing, smiling broadly at him as he still hunched over himself on the chair. "You know you haven't asked me."

"Asked you what?"

The bodyguard's eyebrows shot up expectantly, a faint smile playing around the corner of his mouth. Lovino felt himself flush in embarrassment.

"Fine, are you-?" He waved his hand in replacement of the alien word. Antonio laughed and settled back into his chair, crossing his legs in front of him. He was much calmer now Lovino was stressing out: the bastard.

"Attracted to men?" He filled in and then shrugged. "I suppose I am, in a way. It's complicated, I like to see the person people really are; not the gender they're labelled to be. Everyone has something to love about them. And you?"

The question caught Lovino off guard, as if he had just been punched in the stomach. He did not want to be asked such a question. It might be okay for backwards Antonio to go against everything that God had said, and that was fine because it was his choice. But him? Of course not- no.

But the words that came to his mouth were not the ones he thought of, and in a way were perhaps more truthful. "I don't know, I haven't thought about it."

A long moment of silence passed. Lovino avoided looking at Antonio, instead choosing to look into the dregs of the milk that remained cool in his cup on his lap. He felt suddenly very cold and empty and shivered even against the warmth of the room. He had never any reason to question himself in such a way; he had always believed he would grow up to marry a woman his Grandfather and God approved of and everything would be fine. He would take over the business, he would run it well. Feliciano would go to school and stay innocent forever, maybe getting a little job to support himself but still relying on his big brother.

But things did not seem to be going this way. Lovino feared the business, the same business his brother wanted despite his best efforts to keep him away from it. And of course there was the problem sat across from him. Lovino could feel Antonio watching him think in silence. He had almost committed a dreadful sin with the man before him; all because Antonio, well, made him feel somehow better about himself. When he really thought about it, the Spaniard was the only thing not against him at the moment. He was keeping him from falling over an edge he was hanging over. It was all he had. It was not surprise he was clinging to him like a lifeline, and it was also no wonder he was questioning himself so much.

"Do you want me to leave this job?"

Lovino's gaze snapped back up violently to look at the bodyguard. The dying fire flickered in Antonio's eyes which showed no fear or even guilt, they were measured and calm as they awaited his decision. The noose was around his neck and he was giving Lovino the handle to pull to make him drop.

"What?" He rasped confusion, looking at him incredulously. Why would he get to chose? What right did he have to that choice?

Antonio shrugged. "If me being as I am is a problem for you I will leave. I know some do not like people like me, it makes them awkward and uncomfortable. The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable, Lovino. If you want me to go, I will."

Lovino shook his head, leaning forward as Antonio had done until he was almost in a praying position. The irony of it all almost made Lovino laugh. It was the last thing he wanted to send his bodyguard out of doors just because he felt differently to him. He was not cruel. He didn't approve of it, no; but Lovino could see Antonio was different to him, and that was no reason to send him away. He did a good job, and he was a good man. He did not deserve to be living in poverty just because he himself couldn't control himself and work out what was wrong with his feelings. Sending away one of the causes of his confusion was not the answer to this, it would be running away again and Lovino was fed up of it all.

And frankly Lovino could not see himself without the idiot now. They'd been through a lot together.

"No, you don't have to go anywhere." He said forcefully. Things will be different now, that he knew but it was just something else to deal with. At least _they_ were no longer arguing. "And you know too much now. Besides, do you think I'm such a judgemental bastard I wouldn't be able to stand working with someone who found me attractive?"

Antonio laughed once more.

"Who said I found you attractive?" Antonio chuckled as he leant forward to his previous position. The two chairs were closer than Lovino thought, especially in their hunched positions. Their heads almost butted together. It was a little too close for comfort than Lovino would have liked but there was hint of a challenge in Antonio's eye that he could not back down from. He was not a coward, or at least he didn't want to seem like it. So he kept his face where it was and forced a smirk.

"You all but did." He argued. "And that's fine, not like I care or anything."

Antonio laughed, his breath dancing on Lovino's face. "No. So we're good?"

"We're good." Lovino agreed. Settling back into his chair and breaking away from the moment. There was a slight noise at the edge of his vision, and he snapped his head in that direction but there was nothing there. Antonio hadn't noticed anything and was already chattering away about things. _Must have been the _fire, he thought.

"So, now that's out of the way," Antonio was saying, bringing Lovino's attention back into the room. The bodyguard was way more relaxed now as he reclined back in his own seat. "Is there any more news on the hotel?"

Lovino shook his head, mirroring Antonio's position. "Not that I know of, but I'm sure Grandpa will let me know if there's any developments."

Antonio seemed thoughtful as he looked at the dying flame in the grate that was now barely filling the room with its light. The warm flickers danced across his fine features, dancing like the brush strokes of an artist over canvas.

"I wonder," he said aloud, bringing Lovino out of his over tired thoughts once again. He blinked out sleep from his eyes and tried to focus on the words at hand. "What happened to Carlos and Markita when the place was taken?"

Lovino considered it. Carlos would have been probably taking stock or cleaning up in the downstairs speakeasy, it was unlikely he would have escaped. Markita on the other hand had managed to get a job as a dancer downstairs, she wouldn't have been needed until the evening but there was always a chance she had been visiting Kyle. Most likely though she had not been caught and it was too early for her to be on the work records. When he voiced these thoughts, Antonio nodded.

"I thought the same." He sighed. "Shame about Carlos, he seemed like a good guy that just needed the money. For now we've just got to hope Markita keeps her head down if she knows what's good enough for her."

"We can only hope." Lovino agreed. His mind trailed off, thinking about Kyle and Carlos sat in prison cell waiting for news. The darkness and the dank and the endless, endless waiting. He had liked both men and it seemed a shame they would be lost now. They weren't bad people after all, just on the wrong side of the law. And the law was sometimes wrong. They hadn't hurt anyone, merely sold alcohol to people on the side of a good business. Lovino couldn't see the reason for them to spend their time rotting in a prison for that.

He was distracted by the steady beat of slippered feet on the entrance hall tiles, and the next second the door opened and a pale face popped around the corner.

"Oh, my apologises, Sir." Roderich said. He was wearing a night robe over a pair of stripped pyjamas, but his glasses on the bridge of his nose made even that look as severe. "I didn't think anyone was still up, I wanted to put out the fire so that we don't have any accidents. But if you're still using this room-"

"No, no." Lovino waved his hand, moving up to a sitting position and stretching until his back popped. It was definitely time for bed now, before he curled up and died in exhaustion. "We're off now too. Would you like a hand with anything?"

Roderich seemed scandalised, his dark eyes widening in disgust and the slightest bit of amusement. "Sir, please. I am a butler. It is my job to clean up your mess, please go to bed."

Lovino considered arguing that he was only the son of a rich man and not the lord of any manor, but then he realised he was too tired for that and merely shrugged the comments away. Beside him Antonio stood up and straightened his own suit with a cheerful look as Lovino all but peeled himself from the chair. How the bodyguard looked so awake was beyond him.

"So," Antonio continued as Roderich tidied up in the far corner where the bodyguards had been sat. The bodyguard made an effort to tidy up Lovino's mess, adjusting the seat while he spoke, totally ignoring the offended looks Roderich threw in his direction. "What happens now?"

"With the business?" Lovino enquired and then shook his head, running a hand through his hair and pulling the waxed strands into disorder. Ergh, and he needed a bath but that would have to wait until tomorrow now. "The Lord only knows. Grandpa will want to deal with this one quick. It's bad enough that the police took the hotel, it's even worse it's a leak in our own ranks. We've never had a leak before, as far as I know anyway."

"Your Grandpa keeps a tidy ship."

Lovino wasn't sure whether Antonio was joking or not, so he scowled anyway. "Wouldn't you if you were in this business? It's best to keep everything under control and only surround yourself with people you trust. Always play it safe, risks cause problems somewhere down the line."

Antonio's smile seemed forced as he puffed up the pillow in his hands. "He's trained you up well."

"It'll be my business one day." Lovino shrugged and then stretched, yawning widely. He was sure the moment his head hit the pillow he would be dead to the world until the morning. "In any case I want this business sorted too. Anything that upsets Grandpa is bad for us all. What with the Ivan business too, who knows how many leaks there are, and where they lead to. A leak to the police is one thing, but to the next gang? Catastrophic. Whoever is doing this is walking on a serious tightrope."

"By the sounds of it they certainly are." Antonio noted sadly. Roderich bustled over to their table and began his wiping down of the surface where Feliciano's white flakes from rubbing out his drawing lay like dust. Honestly, the boy was suck a messy idiot. He never tied up after himself.

"Grandpa won't stand for it." Lovino sighed, carrying on the conversation as Roderich worked around them. The cleaning was certainly getting done quicker with two people working on it, he would have helped himself but he was reminded of Roderich's disapproval and just stood to watch.

"He'll be looking for the person who's done it. I'll be surprised if he doesn't already know who it is-"

There was a shatter of glass as the cup of milk fell to the floor, the shards flying off in every direction. Lovino yelped and stepped away at the same time Antonio moved forward to touch Roderich's shoulder who seemed to be shaking. Lovino forgot the glass on the floor; what on earth was wrong? Had his hand slipped? Was he okay?

"I'm sorry, Sir," Roderich gasped. His gaze was fixed to the floor but there was definitely something wrong with the way his hands shook and his pupils were far too small in his eyes. "How clumsy of me, I will get it cleaned up right away."

"Roderich?" Antonio asked, obviously concerned as Lovino was. He leant closer to the older man in an attempt to read his face. "You don't look well, is something wrong? Would you like to sit down?"

The short titter of laughter that erupted from the butler was so false that it made Antonio and Lovino share a wary glance over the top of his head. The tall man crouched until he could pick up the pieces with his slim fingers.

"Problem, Sir?" He answered shakily. "No, no, nothing is wrong-"

"I refuse to believe that for one second." Lovino scoffed, also kneeling on the floor in an attempt to help. He ignored the small noise of protest Antonio made as he did so, easily picking up the large pieces without hurting himself. "Now, please tell me-"

"I can't."

Lovino looked up but Roderich was not looking at him. He was staring at the floor as though it held some important detail none of them had seen, his whole frame shaking. This was not normal, Roderich was usually so straight forward and reasonable, Lovino had never seen the butler act like this in all the years of knowing him. It felt wrong; it felt like there was something he did not know. Something his friend had not said and that made him feel slightly sick.

What could be so bad he could not say anything?

"Is there something wrong with Elizabeta or the baby?" He probed the worst case scenario first. Roderich just twitched his head in response.

"Please, don't ask. I can't tell you. It's not important." He mumbled. He seemed to gather himself up a little and attempt to pick up the glass. Antonio dropped down onto their level too, placing a hand on the butler's shoulder.

"It obviously is to you. And we care Roderich," the Spaniard looked to Lovino for confirmation and he gave a swift nod in return. "Both of us. We want to help, please let us."

But Roderich just shook his head; his shoulder's sagging and shaking. There was a twitch of his lips before he spoke. "I am only a servant and of little consequence. Please let me do my job and leave me alone. It really doesn't matter, I'm just being stupid."

The butler scoffed slightly and worked at picking up the shards. But he still would not reach his eyes. It was clear he was lying, but why, and what for? If it was something wrong with Elizabeta Lovino would be told, she was his friend after all. They both were. He wouldn't have any of this servant business, not when either of them have ever been anything less than family.

Still if Roderich was going to play the 'servant' card, then he would play the master.

Lovino sniffed harshly. "In that case, I demand to know what is wrong. I'm not leaving this room until you've told me, or would you like me to report you to Viktor, or my Grandpa?"

That made him look up. Roderich's head snapped up so quickly his whole body lurched forward slightly; his eyes were wide and helpless looking, his mouth opening in protest. Lovino moved back a little at the sudden and surprising movement, not expecting such a violent reaction, but he recovered quickly. He could definitely use this to his advantage.

"Sir-!"

"No, Roderich." He stopped him sternly before he could get into a good flow. "I am your boss, or I will be one day. I want to think that all the people I have under me are happy, not worrying or upset when I could have helped them. What sort of person would that make me? So are you going to tell me what it is that's bothering you?"

His indigo eyes went large and pleading. He half shook his head. "No, you don't understand- I can't-"

"Fine." Lovino said abruptly, standing up and dusting his suit off. The movement was so quick that even Antonio looked shocked at his sudden change of heart. Lovino had to fight to keep his features straight as he looked down on the confused pair. "Then I will tell my Grandfather, and he will sort it out."

"Lovi!" Antonio jumped up too, although keeping a firm hand on Roderich's shoulder. "What are you-?"

"Come on, Antonio." He demanded quirking an eyebrow before turning on his heel and heading towards the door. He could literally count the second before the bodyguard hurried to do as he was told. Good, Lovino was banking on his loyalty.

He had a brother after all, and a younger one at that. He knew how to deal with people who were being difficult; after years of handling Feli it was impossible not to learn a thing or two. His hand was on the doorknob when Roderich called out for them to stop.

"W-wait!" He pleaded and Lovino halted, but did not turn around. "Please, don't tell the Master. I assure you it is nothing of importance."

"If it wasn't then why all the secrecy, Roderich?" Why was he still being stubborn and hiding it? Couldn't he see all Lovino wanted was to help? It couldn't possibly be that bad. "You need to understand I can't just pretend this never happened when you are obviously very upset about something. I want to help you, but I can't if you won't tell me what's wrong."

He turned slightly, looking past Antonio to see the butler still on the floor, alone in the centre of the room. He was knelt as if he was praying, his dark eyes wide as he visibly gulped hard enough to make his Adam's apple bob in his throat, painfully restricted by the tight buttons of his pyjamas. The silence was deafening as Lovino waited, Roderich seemed to weigh up his options; he visibly shook and closed his eyes as if in pain. When he spoke it was barely above a whisper.

"You must promise me not a word of this will leave this room." He said, his eyes still closed as if waiting for a blow that would never come. Antonio blinked and looked at Lovino but he ignored the bodyguard's eyes in favour of watching the butler. In all his years, Lovino had never once seen Roderich look so old.

"You have my word." He spoke measured and evenly but his words seemed to break Roderich. The man turned his head away, and it took Lovino a moment to realise he was crying.

"I've done something terrible." He choked out. Lovino was frozen to the spot, staring at the sight. _What on earth_-? "It was stupid, but I thought it was the right thing for the baby and now-"

He couldn't seem to go on, shoving his knuckles in his mouth so he could say no more, his shoulders heaving. This was far more serious than Lovino had initially thought it to be. He felt lost for a moment, as though he was missing a vital piece to the puzzle. No small matter would make the butler act like this, it was obviously something damaging.

"Watch the door." he commanded Antonio in an undertone and the man nodded in understanding. Antonio's eyes were as concerned as Lovino felt, his eyebrows puckered over them in confusion. It would not do for someone to walk into the room while they were talking; not when Roderich was so distressed and as yet without cause. A cold feeling was starting to spread in Lovino's stomach and for a moment he wondered if he really wanted to hear this. But curiosity and duty got the better of

him: he had to do this.

Roderich calmed a touch with Antonio at the door, but he still looked horrified, his eyes darting around the room as if he expected someone to step out of the shadows. Eventually he calmed enough to gulp and glance at Lovino, muttering a raspy: "You promise you won't say anything?"

"Of course." Lovino was too concerned to be offended by Roderich's lack of trust in him. He moved to the other man and sat on the floor beside him. Lovino was struck with how similar the situation was to when he was a child and the butler had been there to share a word with him when he'd needed it; after Feliciano and he had argued, when school was getting a little hard. They had both watched each other grow old. It was strange that the roles were reversed but he was sure he had never looked as bad as the man before him now. Roderich struggled to take breath never mind speak. Lovino's anxiety increased until the horrible feeling made him want to shake the other man and demand immediate answers. But he held off.

"I've been so stupid." The butler gasped, shaking his head before putting his face into his hands. "I thought I was doing the right thing, but I was too proud and so fucking stupid."

Lovino waited for an explanation. He felt cold and useless. He should have patted the other man on the back, but he was held back by something. Roderich looked like a man on the edge of a cliff, looking down with nowhere to go but the dark depths of the gorge below. To touch him now would be to push him.

"I'm sorry." He rasped, and looked into Lovino's eyes with horror as his lips formed the words. "It's all my fault, I'm so sorry."

He blinked in response. Sorry? He sent a confused glance in Antonio's direction but the bodyguard had his eyes fixed on Roderich in disbelief, his mouth slightly open and the colour draining from his features. Lovino still did not understand but the silence and the mood shifted to an unbearable level and a faint stirring of understanding heaved his gut.

"What-?"

"It was me." Roderich shook. He said the words as if he could not believe them himself, as if the truth was even too much for him to take in. "Oh god, it was me- the police-"

He didn't finish but he didn't have to. Everything suddenly clicked into place and the cogs began to whir in Lovino's head.

It was Roderich who was the informant. Their butler, his friend: he'd sold them out to save his own skin. The man before him was a traitor.

Anger was the first feeling: anger enough that if he'd have let it grow it would have made him lash out. The idiot had endangered them all! Antonio, his brother, damn it even himself! What on earth had he been thinking? What could have possessed him to-?

And that was as far as his anger got because he saw through the red haze and beyond it to the snivelling wreck of the man in front of him. His childhood friend who had slipped him extra snacks at dinner and taught him to come out of himself with music. He'd been a companion and a good man for as long as he had known. In his right mind he wouldn't have sold them out, not unless something was wrong.

Elizabeta? The baby? All of them were factors; Roderich had not been thinking about himself. And he certainly hadn't been sneaky enough to keep himself out of trouble. His Grandfather was out for blood and he would have it. Before Lovino had almost wanted the capture, just to end his own troubles, but now he felt sick to his bones.

Not Roderich- no. He couldn't-

"Lovi?" Antonio asked from the door because he had been silent for too long and both of the other men were looking at him with concern and worry.

"I don't-," he tried to say but his voice had gone. He cleared his throat. His hands were shaking too. "I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything!" Roderich said quickly, panic in his voice. "Please forget I said anything! I was just so worried for the baby and Eliza, if anything were to happen to them-" He choked back a painful sob that almost broke Lovino's heart. His hand reached out into the void between them and without a second thought Lovino took it. "Oh god, I don't want to die- I don't want to die-"

Words failed him. Before him was the man he knew and while part of him screamed traitor the other could not forget almost fifteen years over one act. Roderich had his reasons and Lovino would not question them.

"Tell me what happened." He commanded. Roderich took a juddering breath.

"A man I went to school with, a friend, is in the forces." He explained, relatively easily. Facts, he supposed, the other man could handle. "He was with the lot watching the house. Name of Zwingli, Vash. I called and told them what I knew."

The idea that the police were watching the house was disturbing enough as it was, but part of Lovino knew they had been. It was obvious really; they'd seen him at church. Even the Russians and the Wang group knew where they lived, it was hardly a secret.

"What did you tell them?" Now this was the worrying part.

Another breath. "Everything. I told them about the party, the people there, the deal from the other day. The hotel: oh god the hotel. I thought if they had something, they could catch him. Put him away. Then we'd be free- but if he's already looking- if he's already found out-"

Fear took him once again and Roderich suddenly lunged forward, pulling his hands closer to Lovino's own and holding them together as if he was praying. The eyes that met his own behind the familiar glasses were almost black with panic and watering.

"Help me-" He begged. It was if he had no other choice now, he was placing all his trust in Lovino and the weight of it was crushing. His every word was like a stab in the heart. "You have to help me, Lovino. Your Grandfather will kill me- he'll put Eliza on the streets, or worse. The baby- I can't let it happen, not while I'm still alive. Help me- please, you have to-"

The man before him was overcome and wept in terror, throwing himself on Lovino's lap with little dignity. He himself had frozen at the words.

What could he do? He could not go against his Grandfather, not with this- it was too big.

But this was Roderich, not some unknown face off the street. He couldn't allow it. He might have been a traitor but he was still a friend. And there was Eliza to think of too, how would she cope with her husband, the man she loved being found and, and possibly-

There was no possible way he would be found. It was only him, Antonio and Roderich who knew about this.

His head was moving too fast to think this over properly. Lovino needed to sleep. "In the morning." He mumbled and he felt the others' gazes snap onto him.

"We'll discuss this in the morning." He repeated. Lovino felt dazed, confused. Empty. He was so shocked he could barely speak but the sight of the butler begging was keeping him from going over the edge. "I need to think this over."

"But you'll help me?"

Lovino swallowed hard, feeling like this decision would make or break him. But then memories of childhood would not stand in his way and allow the man before him to be killed, even if it meant going against his Grandfather.

The older man would not show compassion. And Lovino did not want to be the same.

"Yes." He agreed, swallowing against the lump in his throat. "I'll help. But tomorrow."

oOo

Feliciano had been asleep a while, he did not know how long, when something woke him up. He stared with bleary eyes, sticky with sleep, into the darkness of his room. The darkness looked back at him empty. The room still had the cool edge he liked it to have before he slept in it, the one Ludwig made by opening the window and the closing it again for the rest of the night. It was not safe to have his window open after all, and bugs would get in. Once there had been a spider as big as his hand that had crawled under his door and terrified Elizabeta. Ludwig had said-

Feliciano's train of thought juddered to a halt as he noticed what was wrong with his room, a slight difference that had not been there before. It was barely noticeable, but his wardrobe door was open a fraction; the blackness inside seemed to go on forever. When he had been little, so little that Lovino had seemed like a giant compared to him, he had often cried about his door being open in fear that a monster's slimy hands would work their way around the cracks in the door.

These days it was Lovi crying out in his sleep, but now he had Toni to look after him. There were no such thing as monsters and he had nothing to fear from an open door.

With a small shrug, Feliciano reasoned the creak of the door opening slightly must have woken him up. There were a lot of clothes in there, that had probably done it. He lay back down, curling his covers around him so that some of his body was out in the open air to feel the coolness touch his skin. But he was uncomfortable after being laid for so long in the same position. He sighed, and moved to flip over-

oOo

A scream of terror cut through the dark, black of the night like a dagger. Lovino shot up in bed, his covers flying off him as if the alarming sound had flung him upwards from his sleep. His eyes, wide and staring in the dark, were confused and disorientated. His body, still heavy with sleep, responded slowly and with the confusion of someone exiting a vivid dream and waking up to reality. His mind ran at full speed, trying to process what had just happened. What had that noise been? Where had it come from? Why-?

But then there was the piercing echo of a gunshot and the crash of glass, and Lovino was no longer half asleep. There was no way he could have dreamed that. It felt as if the blood had stopped in his heart and his breath caught in sheer horror.

The noises had come from Feliciano's bedroom.

Without another conscious thought he sprang from the bed, flew across the room barefooted and flung open the door. He did not think about himself, he did not consider how stupid the act could be either. He did care that whoever had made his brother scream like that was obviously in the next room and could easily be after him next; all he cared about was getting to his _fratellino_. Lovino would claw his way through and fight for Feliciano if he had to. He had to make sure he was safe; he had to make sure he was alive-

If he wasn't, oh god-

The darkness was no longer silent, Lovino was distinctly aware of the house coming to life at the shrill scream and shots. Like the pounding of his own heart the noises around him stirred into life. The house woke up, but too slowly for his liking.

Where was everyone? Why weren't they helping?

Perhaps this was a raid? Perhaps they were already dead? Fear griped, ice cold at his heart and he gasped out his breathes as he flung open the door.

As he made to run out and cross the corridor, a darkened figure hurried out of the opposite door and Lovino froze. His throat constricted as he pulled himself to a stop in the doorway, clutching the cold wood to stop himself from sliding. His breath rasped out to be followed by the quick, animal like huffs from the other person. They measured each other up. Where he was expecting masked men, hulking and large, there was a distinct lack of mass. It was hard to make out features in the dark but the small stature and long hair was feminine: it was a woman. The news shocked him into a stupor, broken only when she lunged forward like a cat towards him; the moonlight catching the gleam of her manic eyes and the glitter of the knife she held aloft.

The danger was brief. A shadow shot in front of Lovino, a hand shoving him back through the doorway of his room as a protective shadow pushed the arm of the woman away so that the knife slid across the wall with a shred of wallpaper and the crackle of plaster. The woman hissed like a demon, coming up for another lunge but Antonio, but, had his gun cocked and in her face before she could even turn properly. Lovino stared through the gap in the taller man's arm, hearing the sound of the Spaniard's quickened breath over the sound of his own beating heart, and looked into the woman's eyes. She was beautiful but her face was a twisted foul mask of hate. Her cold eyes caught Lovino's and the cold in his chest tugged tighter at his heart strings, pulling until he felt them draw agonisingly tight. There was no remorse in her eyes, nothing human at all.

At the same time the footsteps and pounding still drew closer, so loud now it would be impossible for the woman to escape. She seemed to be thinking along the same lines, her eyes narrowed in hate briefly before she darted past Antonio, off down the hallway to the staircase. Her shirt flapped up behind her like a cloak and her shadow escaped down the staircase.

She was not alone. Ludwig rushed out of the room the second the edge of her skirt rounded the corner; his face was white and his eyes livid, but his mouth was a calm thin line as he reloaded the handgun in his palm. Out in the staircase there was the sound of shouts and two more shots went off with cursing, the sound of the woman's footsteps on the marble never faltered in her decent. She was fast and soon there was the distant slam of the front door and more cursing. Lovino caught his Grandfather's bellowed voice the most.

"Stay on this floor, in case there's more of them." Ludwig ordered Antonio. Lovino opened his mouth to demand information on his brother but that was when the moonlight caught a silvery wetness on Ludwig's hand that shone in the half light. Everything seemed to stop for a moment and Lovino's knees went weak; then he came to his senses and bolted past the blond man as he in turn hurried to the staircase.

Blood, there was _blood_ on his hands.

Lovino did not care if Antonio was following, or if there might be danger waiting for him in the room. All he could think of was the obvious splash of blood that was covering the bodyguard's hand. Was Feliciano-?

No, no, _no_-

There was no light on in the room, and the curtains blew open with the fresh bullet hole through the glass allowing the night air to enter the room. It was cold. The few shards of glass that had spat off from the window shone like ice on the floor. It was a mess, and more than usual; the art equipment and clothes were still scattered around the room but there was a discorded feeling to the room as if someone had ran through it and scattered the belongings in their haste to get away.

Lovino's eyes took all this in before noticing the small mound under the covers on the bed. He half ran towards it, not taking his eyes from it. Was that a breath moving it, or the breeze? There didn't seem to be any blood about, but the substance on Ludwig's hand was from something and the man didn't seem injured himself. It felt as if his body was separated from his consciousness as he saw his own shaking hand reach out to pull off the covers surrounding the body.

They fell away and large, tear filled eyes made his heart beat again.

"Oh, Feli." He managed to gasp before his brother practically threw himself around him in a hug. For once in his life, Lovino did not mind the arms clinging around his neck and could only hold him equally as tight as Feliciano wailed into his shoulder. He was shaking, or perhaps they both were. Lovino found himself sitting down, suddenly exhausted, and pushing his brother away to see into his face and check for damage.

At first he didn't notice it, Feliciano's face was so shiny looking in the dark with tears and he couldn't seem to stop snivelling that Lovino did not catch the large cut across his brother's cheek until his hand blindly felt for damages. Feliciano gasped slightly in pain and Lovino withdrew his hand quickly from the wounded area. His brother's blood was on his hand. Anger filled his stomach as he silently held his brother to him, holding onto his hand as if Feli was dangling over the edge of the world.

Lovino felt mad at himself for not being there, but even more mad at the people who had done this. This was not the police as he had thought; it had to be Ivan's lot, chasing them down. What sort of scum would go after a young boy? Feliciano wasn't even out of school. Even for organised crime, that was low. His Grandfather would never deal with things in that manner!

He continued to stroke Feliciano's hair, soothing him as the voices his Grandfather and the servants shouting echoed in the lobby. By the sounds of it the woman had got away, and after what she had done to Feli, Lovino found himself wishing she hadn't, even if it was only for a second. He was aware of Antonio giving them some space by the door, but his focus was on his little brother: the little brother he had almost lost moments before. Cuts would heal, but a knife to the throat would not have been a pleasant way to die at all.

He clenched his teeth at the thought and held onto Feliciano that little bit tighter. Feliciano could have died. He could have lost him. The thought was almost too much to bear.

Feliciano himself seemed more calm now and only heaved deep shuddering breaths occasionally but he was still shaking violently. His smaller hand was tight around Lovino's hold. They both flinched when suddenly the light switched on as Antonio flipped the switch by the door. Lovino tutted aloud in sympathy as he caught sight of his brother's pale features marred by the jagged cut across his face. It was not a deep cut or bleeding too freely, he had been lucky. Whatever had happened the woman had not been successful in her murder attempt, but Feliciano was a quick little kid when he needed to be. He must have moved out of the way just in time.

Trying not to move too much, he shifted so that he was able to pull the blanket free but could not manoeuvre it up and over his brother's shoulders like he had planned.

Lovino blinked in surprise as it suddenly did as he had planned without him touching it. Antonio had moved from the door like a ghost and had placed the blanket over his brother wordlessly, his eyes pitying and sad as he crouched down in front of the younger boy, placing a tentative hand on his pyjama clad leg.

"Feli?" He asked softly. There was a hiccup in response. "Feli, I need you to tell me if you are hurt anywhere else."

Feliciano shook his head a fraction, more like a jerk. Lovino could see eyes were wide and dilated still in terror, his hand jerking pathetically in his own. Lovino knew his own hands were trembling, and his stomach was in knots but he was recovering slowly now he could see Feliciano alive and whole. Poor Feli couldn't seem to control himself; he had to keep it together for him. It was if all the light had gone in him and left him as dark as the room, he held back a sob and mumbled something unintelligible under his breath which only brought on more tears.

"What?" Lovino said, trying to catch his eyes but they were clouded with tears. He mumbled again. "Feli, please, you're going to have to speak up."

"She paused." He faintly heard in a whisper. Feliciano's eyes were fixed on the floor and were slowly welling up again. "She was after you."

Lovino stared aghast as his fresh sobs were covered by the sound of pounding footsteps rushing up the staircase and along the corridor. The doors smashed open and all six foot of Roma Vargas burst into the room; their Grandfather's hair was dishevelled and he had thrown a heavy coat over his shoulders. His eyes scanned the room briefly before locking onto the two brothers and rushing forward, half shoving Antonio out of the way in the process.

"Lovino, oh Lovi." It took Lovino a second to realise that his Grandfather's eyes were fixed on him and he blinked in confusion over his worry. Feliciano was the one who was- "Where are you hurt? Do you need a doctor?"

"I-" He shook his head in confusion but Roma was already searching him, patting him down to check for injuries. With the light on Lovino realised that the blood from his brother's face has smeared onto his own shirt front, the red stark against the dulled white, and then of course there was his hands. But it was Feliciano clinging to him, needing comfort from him; he was obviously the injured one.

"Sir." Antonio tried to interrupt his Grandfather in a measured tone. "It is not-"

But Roma rounded on him like a caged animal, his teeth bared. "You! Why didn't you do your job? Why are you just standing there when that bitch is on the loose?!"

"With all due respect, Sir." Antonio continued in the same voice with a hard crease marring his forehead. "Someone needed to stay in the room with the boys in case there was more than one."

Roma huffed and threw his hand in the air, a sign he was dropping the subject but was not persuaded.

"He is still injured." He snarled to the Spaniard. Lovino watched as Antonio's face flickered with a mixture of confusion and something close to dislike.

"I'm not hurt, _Nonno_." Lovino managed to say. His throat felt dry and the hand clinging to his own was still shaking. How couldn't the older man see?

"I am." Feliciano's voice was rough and croaky with tears but he still managed the two words. They were spoken with disbelief and sadness, and Lovino couldn't blame his little brother. Roma's attention snapped onto the youngest brother, finally taking in the wound on his face with wide eyes. He visibly let out a breath, clutching his chest over his heart in relief.

"Oh, thank god." He breathed before turning his attention to Feliciano's shaking form. He knelt down slightly before them but his eyes were no longer worried or panicked, he seemed almost relaxed with a hint of anger lurking below the depths. Without permission he grabbed Feli's face to see it properly, tilting it into the light and ignoring his flinch of pain.

Lovino could understand the mistake, but he couldn't believe the older man. Feliciano was obviously in distress and pain, why wasn't he trying to help more and be nice? Sure, the way he was looking him over was thoughtful, but it was cold. Detached.

Perhaps he was just angry. That had to be it, of course, he was mad something like this had happened. Lovino could tell with the crease between his eyebrows and the taunt line of his mouth. It was unsurprising really, he himself was furious. The only thing keeping him in the room was the person he wished to avenge.

"Grandpa, who did this?" He asked quietly as Roma stepped away from Feliciano. The youngest child still had tears in his eyes which he wiped at futilely until Lovino rubbed his head to calm him. Their Grandfather leered darkly as the sound of running came towards the room once again, and this time Viktor, and surprisingly, Roderich came into the room. Viktor looked blank despite the situation and the gun he was holding casually in one hand. Roderich on the other hand was pale and distressed. His eyes caught Lovino's guiltily before he made his way towards them purposefully; there was a first aid kit in his hand which he took to using on Feliciano without really looking at him.

"Ludwig and the men have gone looking for the woman." Viktor murmured, his voice even. "But I don't think there will be much luck. She's a fast one."

"_Buttana_! That little tart was from Braginski, I know it." Roma hissed furiously. He seemed frustrated with himself more than anything, his hands flying through the air rapidly as he began to pace erratically across the room. "When I get my hands on them, I swear, there will be nothing left. I will tear down that man's business brick by brick if I have to. I will not let him come in my home and threaten my family! I run this town, do you hear me? Me!"

No one spoke, no one dared. The hands that Roderich used to work on Feliciano were unsteady and Lovino could feel his younger brother quaking still beneath his hand. He had not seen his Grandfather so angry since he himself had been attacked, but that had not been at their home, and it had not been an almost successful murder. He could have lost Feli tonight, and he would have to consider that deeply at some point, but for now the danger had past and more serious things were on his mind.

"What do you suggest we do, Sir?" Viktor asked. His tone had not changed but there was a curiosity in his eyes as his cold blue gaze followed Roma around the room. The other man shook his head and scratched at his scalp rapidly before he stopped dead in his tracks to fix the blond with a look.

"We cannot let this lie." He muttered, his eyes wild and far away. "We have to strike back. Take their club, the casino, whatever I don't care. But I want one in my possession by tomorrow. I will not stand for this. I have been more than welcoming by letting them stay in this city; for them to try to take it now is disrespectful. I do not like to be disrespected."

"No. It will be done." Victor agreed, bowing his head slightly. Beside Lovino, Feliciano gave a small gasp as the alcohol laden swab touched the wound on his face; his finger's tightening briefly around his brother's hand before relaxing. But Roma heard it and rounded on the butler as if the younger boy had screamed.

"You watch what you're doing, idiot!" He snapped. Roderich visibly flinched but said nothing, scurrying rat-like to complete the first aid and leave. His hands were almost shaking too much to handle the bandages. Lovino, feeling sorry and more than wary for the man spoke up to distract attention from him. Better him than Roderich who after the discussion early, clearly had lots more to worry about.

"What do you want me to do, Grandpa?"

Roma blinked heavily and looked at Lovino as though he hadn't noticed he was still sat there. His gaze softened slightly when he looked at him, but there was still anger in his voice when he spoke.

"I want you to go to bed." He said decisively. "Viktor and I will take this discussion upstairs. You both need to be up for school-"

He paused, thinking deeply before shaking his head to remove the incorrect statement. It had obviously been a long night. "No, no, Feliciano needs to sleep for school. You will be working tomorrow. I want things to carry on as normal, tonight never happened."

"The window is broken." Lovino pointed out feeling a little useless. He wanted to stay with his Grandfather and hear what he had planned for the Russian's, and everything else for that matter but the hand on his own reminded him that first and foremost he was a brother. He could not leave Feliciano alone after this; the thought didn't even cross his mind. No: he wanted him right next to him where he could look after him. Tonight he would be a big brother and nothing more.

"He could stay with me for tonight. I don't mind sharing and it will be easier to look after us both in one room." Lovino explained as Roderich backed off the now bandaged and miserable looking Feliciano. Without another word he sped from the room as quickly as he had entered. Lovino had to avoid the urge to look around, instead keeping eye contact with his Grandfather who did not seem to have noticed the other man's retreat.

"Yes, of course." He nodded and then waved a hand vaguely in the direction of his bedroom. "Go, now. Tonight will be a long night."

It certainly would. Lovino felt wide awake now, the adrenaline from before heightening his senses. He doubted he could sleep now after what had happened but he would do as he was told. His Grandfather needed time alone; to push him now would be dangerous. So instead he jumped up, pulling his brother with him and half moved to lead him out of the room on his shaky legs.

"Lovino." His Grandfather stopped him before he could go very far, striding forward to catch them. Without another word he kissed both boys on their cheeks before drawing them closer to him in a hug which neither of them resisted, even though the arms around them were tight. The older man's breath grazed against Lovino's ear briefly before he pulled away slowly and motioned for them to carry on in silence.

Not needing to be told twice, Lovino hurried from the room and the short distance across the hall. His main priority now was getting his brother into bed and letting him rest. He did not care that Antonio followed at their heels, he did not care that his clothes were dotted with blood. All that mattered now was his little brother who meant more to him than he could ever say. He had almost lost him and he would not be letting him go again.

oOo

**Translations:  
>dormi bene- sleep well<br>sogni d'oro- sweet dreams  
>buttana- Scillian swear word (bitch)<br>**

**Not keen on this chapter but it was the best I could do. Drop a review anyway :) I'm going to be busy with things for a while but it's gonna be a while for the next update anyway cos I'll be working on a chapter of the Harry Potter/hetalia crossover which should be fun and a break from the depression that is this story :L I love it but it's so blargh all the time :')**

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed last time or favourited :) let me know what you think and stuff! Hope you're all well!  
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	30. Dead Man Walking

**I am actually so sorry I've been away so long, I'm sure some of you must have thought I'd died or left this story. Well I haven't, uni life and everything has got in the way of writing. And being in my second year is a pain because it all counts now. So updates will be coming just really slowly from now on. Officially half way guys!**

**Welcome to all the new followers and thanks for everything while I've been gone! **

**Small cameo from Molossia, Kugelmugel and Hutt River :)**

**oOo**

"Mr. Kirkland, Mr. Kirkland- hey, over here!"

"Mr. Kirkland, if you would please answer our questions-?"

"Mr. Kirkland, how is the case progressing?"

The shouted questions increased as a group of people all but ran into Arthur in a haste to stop him from entering the police headquarters. He stepped back with his hands rising into the air as they chattered and gibbered around him. He stared in confusion at them. It took him a moment to make out the words from their babbling, and a few minutes more to realise who they were. In all his years of service, Arthur had never one had to deal with anyone that wasn't either a suspect, a fellow officer or some poor soul caught in the middle of everything. But now he was being accosted by another sort of person, one of the most terrifying and infuriating creatures know to man.

The media.

"I, erm-" He glanced over the top of the car to look over to his brother who had just exited from the other door. William looked about as bemused as Arthur felt, one copper brow raised in surprise at the three young men who now crowded around his brother in a swarm. Arthur turned as a camera was thrust in his face, the cold rim of the lens brushing his nose before snapping back out of his reach.

"Say, would you pose for a photograph?"One of the young men asked him. The kid was tall but could not have been a day over twenty. His wide eyes under thick eyebrows were eager and the little bow-tie at his throat emphasised the smile on his face which was bright enough light a darkened room.

Arthur backed off a little, unsure how to respond. A hurried glance around showed him the men: one with the camera, a smaller boy whose features were half hidden below the rim of a large hat and another man who looked as if he should be spending the night in the cells rather than asking him questions. Arthur was instantly cautious of the dark haired fellow who chewed on a piece of gum with dark glasses shading his eyes. It was far too early to be dealing with this nonsense. All Arthur wanted was a cup of coffee and his morning papers before he started getting to work on the mountain of paper work waiting for him.

"I'm sorry gentlemen," He apologised, trying to edge round them and get a clear shot to the doors. "I'm afraid I'm very busy right now-"

But they were a lot quicker than he was. They rushed in front on him before he could stop them; he had to hold onto the nearest street lamp to stop himself from falling onto the little boy who looked up at him with curious eyes.

"Yeah, I'm sure stopping one of the biggest gangs in the city is a busy job." The man in the glasses noted casually. He had nothing in his hands but the youngest boy held a notebook and a pen aloft, ready to write down his answers. It was disconcerting and he almost didn't catch the reference to the Vargas case. Almost.

"Hey, who told you about that?" William demanded as he rounded the side of the car, nostrils flaring dangerously as he waved his hand through the air. "That's classified information."

"Who are you?" The chirpy man with the bow tie asked, cocking his head to one side as he tried to place William's accent.

"His brother-" William growled and the younger boy immediately started scribbling down stuff onto his paper, twitching across the page like a bug. "Hey!"

The other man with the glasses laughed aloud as he moved in to answer William's questions. "It's hardly a secret. What else do you expect when you arrest an entire hotel and let the people go afterwards? Everyone is always willing to sell their story, and believe me there's always one to tell."

He crossed his arms and turned to face Arthur. "So, can we rest easy in our beds knowing you're on the case, Mr. Kirkland?"

"Mr Kirkland will not be answering any questions on the case at hand." A grave voice spoke up suddenly from the doorway of the headquarters. The three men turned their heads to face the newcomer. The Commissioner's aide was stood, statue-like in the entrance and he looked like he had been there a long time. Berwald's expression was its usual stern one behind his glasses and Arthur flinched before realising his gaze was not directed onto him but the young men before him. Despite his companions sudden nervousness at the stare the fellow with the glasses crossed his arms in a challenge.

"Listen pal," He drawled taking languid step forward. "The people of this city have a right to know what is going on right under their noses. If this Officer is following such an important case, then it is the duty of the police force to release such information. For the good of the public."

"For the good of your pocket more like." William grumbled under his breath, but loud enough to bring a tint of red to the tall boys ears, who had the decency to look ashamed of himself.

Berwald sighed dropped his way down the steps in what Arthur could only consider to be a deliberately slow pace. His uniform was crisp and pressed in the morning light, and the clink of his gun as if swung on his side was distinctly ominous. He stopped right in front of the man and Arthur was not surprised to see him finally buckle under the cold stare of the considerably taller man.

"The case is still under way." Berwald explained, his voice was without anger or annoyance but still managing to convey the meaning across: he was not impressed. And nor would he stand for their rudeness. "Any intrusion from the media will serve to only disrupt the process of the law. We are releasing no information for the _safety_ of the public. Now if you wouldn't mind leaving the premises please, before I have to arrest you."

The man in the bow tie moved his companion out of the way with a swift elbow, to smile apologetically up at the blond giant, but the smile was frayed and his eyes nervous at the threat of being arrested.

"What my co-worker was trying to say, Sir is that we have to take something back to our boss. If we go back empty handed again we'll be out of a job."

Berwald shrugged.

"That is not my problem." He said dismissively. "My only concern is with this case, which at the moment you are jeopardising. This is your final chance gentlemen."

The tall boy looked imploringly to the man in the glasses who seemed to consider whether Berwald was being serious or not, Arthur could almost see him weighing up a night in the cells versus a chance of a story for the paper. After a moment's hesitation his face blanched and he spat on the pavement in annoyance.

"Well balls to this then." He growled, gathering himself up and running a hand nonchalantly through his hair. He turned to the other men. "Come on guys. We're not getting a story from these bastards."

He stormed away suddenly, shoulders hunched up and feet stamping on the pavement with venom. The young boy followed after at a trot like an obedient puppy, holding onto his hat with one hand and his notepad in the other. The tall young man stared after him looking lost, then seemed to realise that all their eyes were fixed onto his lonely figure still amongst them. He laughed awkwardly and then ran after his companions, calling for them to stop. Berwald sighed again.

"Well that was unexpected." William said, cocking his head to one side as he watched their retreating backs disappear around the block. "What a bunch of odd blokes. I'll never understand those vultures."

"'All weird from the 'paper." Berwald grunted in response, rolling his shoulders in a shrug before fixing his eyes onto Arthur who flinched at the heavy weight of his gaze.

"Commissioner told me to warn you about them. They've been phoning the office all morning." He explained. "Seems I got here just in time."

"Indeed." Arthur said. He was still surprised they'd wanted to talk to him of all people. He knew the case was big, and it was getting onto the stages now where things were actually happening, but he couldn't imagine what it would mean for the city. Of course, it was the city and the people in it he wanted to protect but the case was very personal to him at the same time. To have the media interested in something that was so ingrained in his life was a strange feeling.

"We can't tell anyone about the case, Officers." Berwald reminded him with a nod in his, and William's direction. "What happens from now stays in the forces. Good day."

The hulking man turned slowly and made his way back into the dark doorway of the police station, opening the door just as someone rushed out of it. Arthur was so preoccupied watching the other man's last fleeting glance in his direction that he did not recognise Lars until he stood in front of him, out of breath and panting.

"Sir." He greeted briefly before shoving a piece of paper into his hand. "A note for you, Sir. From our old source."

Arthur blinked, the words refusing to sink in for a long minute. Their old source had been their main lead in the case for a while. He seemed to know their office hours and would always leave cryptic notes and messages for them about Roma's dealing. Who he was, or where he was Arthur had never known; he was always more than pleased to just go with it and accept the advice given. Every lead that the old source had given them had never proved false.

He had never any reason to doubt the writer of these messages, so he snatched it up without hesitation to read, the paper cut of letters meeting him with a sense of familiarity. It was an address and a time, somewhere in the night district if his memory was correct. Places which were closed during the day and open in the evenings, attracting in more than their fair share of shady characters. Underneath this there was only two other words:

_Stop it_.

"'Stop it'?" William repeated reading over his brother's shoulder. "What does that mean? Stop what?"

Arthur crumpled up the note in his fist and rushed to get back in the car. The time on the letter gave them just over half an hour to get down town which was enough, just. They had to move quickly.

"Hurry, gentlemen," He ordered as William and Lars followed him cautiously. "Our lead has just asked us to break up a fight, and if we don't hurry we're going to miss it."

They moved much quicker after that. Arthur gritted his teeth as he slid into the passenger seat, William albeit throwing himself in the driver's seat. _What on earth was Roma plotting now?_

oOo

Mathias chewed the end of his cigarette, his eyes fixed onto the road and his foot tapping out a rhythm on the peddles at his feet. The car was stationary on the roadside but he kept one hand on the wheel, his fingers picking at the fraying leather cover. He'd already peeled a good proportion away and had revealed the grimy metal beneath. The road was as empty as could be expected of a back street in one of the most dodgy districts he had ever had the misfortune to step on; apart from his car and there was only one other across the street. Which was considerably much more fancy looking than his own, straight from the boss himself he guessed. It was black and new and probably a spare car that the boss had his favourites drive, it wasn't the lump of shite he drove with the funny accelerator that wouldn't speed up quite right. He spat out of the open window and onto the sizzling ground. Mathias could see the two people in the other car were arguing again, although he could not here them over the distance their mouths were moving too fast and at the same time to be a normal conversation. He faintly wondered why Sadiq and Heracles always worked together if they could not stand one another.

What he would kill for a conversation now, even an argument. Something just to prove that the man beside him was still with him. He sighed deeply and looked at his own companion.

Lukas looked like a ghost; his pale skin had lost its healthy gleam and had greyed over the past few days. He had barely eaten and he only slept when he had drunk himself into such a stupor he'd passed out all over Mathias' sofa. More than once he'd given up his bed for the younger man for a night on the lumpy seat in the cold living room, only to be woken up with Lukas' nightmares that made his scream out in the dark. He'd gotten used to it by now, but it did not make him care less.

Mathias himself still saw Emil's casket being lowered into a pit, still felt the warm blood cover his hands. It might not have been his brother who died, but he had lost a friend and the world had lost a good guy. And now he was seeing the eldest brother being eaten up by his grief, swallowing him whole from the inside. It made him feel sick, especially when he thought he could have done something.

He had meant to be in charge. He should have done his job and looked after them all.

"Hey, you sure you want to do this?" He found himself asking, even though he could guess Lukas' response before he did it, right down to the specific way his head shook in negative.

"Yes." His response was terse, but all his responses were these days. Lukas stuck to one word answers for the most part, his jaw gripped tight like he was holding back a scream. Mathias usually didn't push him. _Give him time_, he always thought, but today wasn't a normal day of just living and lounging around the house. They had a club to rob, people to do away with.

He knew Lukas was not ready for that and Mathias could not just let him walk in there, not when he might stop it.

"Are you sure?" He pressed, taking the cigarette from his mouth to throw it from the window, never taking his eyes once off Lukas. He heard the cigarette skid into the nearest gutter with a plop. The other man's eyes were fixed straight ahead, a muscle in his jaw working hard at keeping his mouth closed. "I mean it. This isn't a simple job. The boss wants results and if you aren't ready I can't let you go in there. I can make your excuses but I need-"

"No." Lukas said firmly. His hands were shaking on his lap, gripping the other one so hard his fingers were white. "I need-"

He took a deep shuddering breath and closed his eyes. Mathias did not interrupt, wondering if this would be Lukas opening up at last, finally voicing his emotions instead of keeping them bottled up.

"I need to feel _something_, Mathias." He half whispered, a glitter of tears clinging to the corner of his eyes as he swallowed loudly. There was a harsh, corrosive feeling to his words like they were acid in his mouth he was releasing into the world. "Fuck, I need to feel anything but dead. And if I have to kill people to do that, then by god I will do it. You can't stop me."

Mathias stared open mouthed, words sitting on the edge of his tongue before a whistle brought him out of his shocked state and back to reality. Heracles and Sadiq had detached themselves from their argument and their car, they were stood on the pavement and looking at him meaningfully. He checked his watch: it was time to get moving, but Lukas-

The passenger door opened and the other man was already out and walking stiffly to the others before Mathias could form a word to stop him. He swore under his breath and hurried out of the vehicle himself, keeping his eye on his companion's loose stride and shaking hands. He quickly caught up to him, but Lukas did not acknowledge him, his cool eyes fixed on the Sadiq and Heracles before them.

Sadiq sneered as they got closer, one dark brow raised and his mouth leering at them. "'Bout time. Don't wanna be late for the party boys."

Mathias normally would have laughed too, but right now he felt sick. He didn't mind doing his job, it wasn't the nicest thing or always the cleanest but it paid well, and to be honest being on the bad side of society was better than being on the good. At least you couldn't get hurt for just living, in this job you got hurt for being an idiot. And that Mathias was not. Lukas on the other hand didn't have his head on straight right now, and that was dangerous.

"Enough chitchat." Heracles muttered, shoving past Sadiq to get to the front of the group and leading the way down the street. The target was at the end of the street and the opposite side of the road. They were to go in, kill the staff, steal any valuables and leave. A five minute job, maybe even less. Lukas wasn't ready for that sort of job; he could see it in him. Mathias had known him for so long, they'd done so many jobs together and now he was no longer the same man. His brother's death had broken him. The old Lukas would have walked towards the job with his head held high and his mind focused; now he looked like a walking corpse, the life was out of his eyes and his face was too pale to be normal. How long was it since he'd eaten? How long was it since he'd slept without nightmares?

"Wait." Mathias whispered as he stepped in front of Lukas before he could follow Sadiq's retreating back, arched in annoyance at Heracles. It took Lukas' eyes a good few seconds to adjust to him and a few seconds more to scowl at the hand Mathias hand placed on his shoulder who was using his height and weight as an anchor to stop Lukas from going any farther. "Lukas, please go back to the car. I'm worried about you-"

"Don't." There was none of the usual venom he usual reserved for Mathias in his voice, none of the spark he enjoyed. The eyes that met his own were red, tired and sore, but more than anything they were lost. But there was resolution on his tongue. "I want to do this. Move."

"No!" He shushed, he tried to push him back but he was surprisingly firm on the ground for someone who looked so ill. "Lukas, please-"

But Lukas didn't listen and just moved past him like a ghost, slipping under his arm like water. Mathias gritted his teeth to hold back a growl of anger and stomped after him, planning on using force if necessary to take the other man back to the care: damn Heracles and his fucking time limits. Yet he was surprised to find no resistance to meet him as the other men were looking past the corner instead of going around it.

"What's going on?" He quizzed. Sadiq swore and turned to face him, his dark eyes narrowed in anger.

"The police!" He spat onto the floor, backing up from the edge of the wall. "The blasted police! What the hell are they doing there?"

Mathias shoved past Heracles who was still staring out to look himself, thinking that their eyes must be tricking them. But they weren't. In front of the club across the street was a dark car, and lounging on that car smoking were three men. Two were out of uniform and in casual day clothes, but they were definitely police just by the pompous, self righteous way they were holding themselves. Besides, Mathias would recognise that uniform anywhere; luckily it was no one he knew but this couldn't mean anything good. They couldn't take a place with the police right outside. It would be like suicide.

What on earth was going on? Weren't they meant to be looting the joint? How could the boss have lead them to somewhere not worth their time. Unless-

"The rat." Heracles snarled in Mathias ear and made him flinch. The other man's eyes were fixed across the road in loathing. "They must have known about the plan. We better tell the boss. Now."

"As much as it pains me to admit it, I agree with green fingers here." Sadiq muttered, turning away like a dog that had been kicked. "Come on, back to the cars. Let's get out of here."

He and Heracles returned to their vehicles, leaving Mathias still stood looking out onto the road. This rat was a dangerous thing, especially for the business. Although it wouldn't be long before the boss cottoned on now as to whom it was, there was a limited amount of people who knew about the plan and four of them were here. Sadiq and Heracles were unlikely; he'd never cross Roma himself, but Lukas-

_Shit._

Mathias snapped his gaze back to look at the other man, his pale face and haunted expression. He was willing to kill people to feel something, so what else could he do? What lengths would he go to feel the thrill again, to get over his brother's death?

"Lukas, you didn't...?" He gasped leaving the question hanging. The other man did not reply, but stared ahead unblinkingly. It didn't help Mathias heart stop beating quickly in his chest.

What if it was him? What could he do then? He couldn't just throw him onto the streets, not in his condition; it would be akin to murder. He really like Lukas, and he wanted to help to get rid of his own guilt that rotted like cancer at the pit of his stomach every time he thought of the reason for his despair. But it was unsafe for him to harbour a traitor in his home, especially one stopping the boss from his revenge.

This biggest question seemed to be, was Mathias as big of a coward as he thought he was?

He glanced back around once more time at the relaxed looking men around the car who seemed pleased knowing that no one could get past them into the club. They chatted amongst each other and smoked cheerfully. One, a blond without uniform, broke his gaze from the others to gaze around the road; he must have caught sight of Mathias peeking out from behind the building because a smirk grew on his face. Mathias retreated quickly and, pulling Lukas with him, hurried back to the car. He would worry about the rat later; they needed to get out of the area or risk being arrested anyway for loitering suspiciously.

_The boss would know what to do_.

oOo

Vash didn't like having time off work. Time was money and he needed all the money he could get, what with the debt collectors breathing down his neck and the landlord hounding his every step. It had begun to get a little tight in his purse, and there were always things to buy: clothes, food, heating. It was endless and he needed the extra hours but it started to look suspicious when he didn't want to leave the office. People would ask questions and get involved which he did not need. Anri was especially a problem, she meant well but she would be over to his house faster than a steam train with food and a clumsy hand to help out with if she saw he needed anything. And he didn't want anything from anyone. If the others knew he wouldn't be able to live with the shame, even though he understood the problems weren't his fault, they were still his to safeguard from the world. Vash couldn't help but blush slightly at Anri seeing the inside of his dingy bottom floor flat, it wasn't something he was proud of and he wouldn't want her, or any of the others to see it.

No, days off were even worse because it meant for one whole day he was out of the case. Out of the loop. And he hated that more than the loss of money because in his line of work you never knew what a new day would bring. It made him irritated; he hated just sitting in the house when he could be out on the street doing something with himself to help people. So he did grocery shopping instead as a break to the monotony of the home.

He loved his sister and he knew she liked to spend time with him but he felt restless when he could easily be working and gaining money on an interesting case. There were only so many radio shows he could listen to before he started feeling like he was going mad. The monotony killed him. The house around him didn't help; the landlord would be knocking round any day now to collect the new rent for the month, the first time he would have to pay himself that wasn't covered in the payment he made all those months ago. And this was with money he didn't have. It was getting there but it was hard to choose between paying off the debts or paying off the home, and all while trying not to draw Heidi's attention to their- his problem. _Damn he needed money..._

With his arms full of his half price groceries, Vash crossed the street towards the apartment. His eyes scanned the street as he walked, as usual looking for something out of the ordinary. For once he found it: a dark, shiny car was sitting patiently on the curb waiting for its owners to come back. There were very few people on this block who could afford a car, and he doubted any of their relatives could afford one either. So it was either someone who had got lost on a back road or had parked it there to avoid the traffic of the main street.

Then again, it was not wise to leave a car like that in a neighbourhood you didn't know. Any moron knew that. As for parking they were too far from the main street to be a sensible distance to walk all for hassle free parking. No, it was certainly strange and Vash did not like strange things on his road. He kept his eyes on the vehicle for as long as possible, only turning when he had to go down the steps to his wet little home.

Then things got really strange: the front door was open.

It was only a crack, but it was not on latch and it was not on lock like he had left it. Or how he thought he had left it. No, he definitely closed and locked it as normal. He had a routine when leaving his sister alone and that was a key step in getting out of the house and he would never forget it. An ice drop of fear ran into his stomach as he albeit threw himself down the stairs in a haste to get to the door. He pushed it open slowly, as his training taught him to do, even though his body was screaming at him to charge into the house like a tank and rip off the limbs of whoever was in here.

But then there were voices: his sister's and a female's. He listened closely but the other woman's tones were not the same as the old lady that lived next door, who sometimes paid his little sister a visit to keep her company, nor was it her daughter who often did the same. This woman was a stranger to him and he did not like it, but he did not hear any panic in his sister's voice. In fact, she seemed very happy, her light voice floating down the hallway and into the kitchen.

A stranger was a stranger though, and he always told Heidi never to open the door so it must have been something either important, or a visit she had forgotten to mention. _Silly girl_. Vash removed the hand he had subconsciously placed on the gun in his coat and he sighed loudly, shutting the door too forcefully so that he would be heard entering the house. He would not stop being cautious but he could not go into the room with a gun held aloft, especially on the off chance this was the landlord's mother or something. He hoped that wasn't the case though.

"Heidi, I'm back!" He called. His sister immediately piped up from the living room.

"Vash, some ladies are here to talk to you from work!"

Work. Well, that was better than he'd hoped. The car across the street must have been an unmarked police car and the women must be delivering a message from the boss. Perhaps there was a new lead in the case? In any case he put down the groceries on the kitchen table and walked the short distance to the living room, eager to hear what they had to say.

His sister was in her usual place, facing the radio and the two guests were seated on the sofa. Both women were dressed in fine clothes. One was thin and beautiful, with pale skin and eyes like chips of ice under thick hooded eyelids. The other was clearly her sister but her face was meeker and rounder. Vash stopped dead in the doorway, the smile he had forced sliding onto his face. Two reasons:

One, he had never seen these women before in his life and he had seen all of the women at work at least once on his way through the offices.

Two, they had guns, clearly on show on their laps.

Vash almost swore aloud, almost, but he managed to stop himself, biting his lips so hard it hurt. His mind worked quickly for a solution and also for answers. It was clear they were here to speak to him, and the fact that they hadn't harmed poor Heidi showed it was business or perhaps even something more. They did not want bloodshed, or him for an enemy. But the guns were still a major threat over what would happen if this talk went wrong for them. They had clearly known about his sister's near blindness, to take advantage of her was pretty sick.

The beautiful blond girl grinned, it was a sickly smile and it twisted her face into something not so attractive. "Ah Vash, we have been waiting for you. Did you enjoy your shopping?"

His heart was beating so loudly in his ears that it took her words a few moments to get through the drum like beats. Vash didn't know how to respond, his words has left him. All he could see was Heidi sat in front of two unknown and possibly dangerous women. Every instinct as a brother told him to protect her, to pick her up and run down the street if he needed to. His fingers itched once more to the gun at his side, but the other woman met his eyes with her own ones and shook her head slightly. She motioned towards her own gun and then with a barely noticeable glance to her sister at her side. It was a curious gesture but it spoke volumes: they were quite prepared to shoot if he drew a weapon, and two against one was never a good chance when a civilian was involved.

It seemed Vash would have to play the actor.

"Yes, thank you." Had his voice always sounded that stiff? That false? "Fresh air is always good on days like this."

"Oh, I agree." The waif like women commented, her cheerful tone as false as his own. She seemed to be masking an accent that Vash struggled to make out. "Katyusha and I were just telling your darling sister about how we encouraged the boys to wait outside for us. Such a small place, they wouldn't have fit their big shoulders through the door! And it would have been so stuffy!"

"I am sorry about that, Natalia." Heidi said earnestly. Vash found himself walking towards his sister to stand behind her chair, one shaking hand gripping the sponge surface like a vice. He understood the real meaning of the words better than his sister: they were surrounded from outside the building. How dangerous this was he still could not see, but it was getting bad enough that he needed to remove his sister from the situation quickly. If they wanted to talk they would do it with her out of the room.

"I hope this won't take long." Vash murmured, narrowing his eyes in dislike at the smug look this Natalia was giving him. Natalia and Katyusha, not standard American names by a long shot. And the accents- shit, what had he got himself into? He should have never left the house.

He bent to his sister's ear and spoke, although loud enough to not rouse suspicion from the two women before him who watched his exchange like hungry animals.

"Heidi, can you go and sit in your room, please?" He kept his voice even to his own surprise, even though his hands were shaking and his heart beating so fast he felt it would burst. "This might be serious police business and little girls like you shouldn't be listening in. Go and listen to your show, it should be on soon."

Luckily she had a radio in her own bedroom to listen to; otherwise she may have insisted listening to the better quality one in the living room. But obedient as ever, she smiled up at him roughly where she could see his face.

"Of course," She agreed, daintily standing to her feet and taking into her hands the cane she used to walk with. With ease she stood and walked slowly out of the room, the layout easy for her to manoeuvre with all the practise she had, it was almost as if she wasn't blind. There was a pause before she shut her door, and an even longer one before her radio was tuned in, loudly and poorly tuned. Vash rounded on the women.

"Who are you?" He demanded, keeping his voice down. "What do you want in this house?"

Natalia sniffed hard through her nose and looked around the room in distaste. "Such a shabby little hole. How much does this little pit cost you, Captain?"

Vash did not sit down although his legs shook. His face spasmed in irritation at the rudeness the woman had dared to have as an intruder in his own home. He knew it wasn't nice, but there was no need to remind him. Whatever games she was playing he would not have it, he would have answers from these foul creatures.

"Answer the questions please." He said cleanly. The plumper woman spoke up, her voice surprisingly sad.

"We have been sent here by our brother," she explained, her hands folded neatly upon her lap. One hand placed delicately on the handle of the gun but she made no move to remove it. Her accent was stronger than Natalia's and definitely not American. European, eastern perhaps.

"This house is due more rent soon isn't it?" Natalia cut in, one pencil thin eyebrow raised in his direction, a snide smile playing on her large lips she had painted a blinding red. She was like a fox, her angular face staring at him gloatingly as she went in for the kill. "How is that working out for you on that poor, officer's wage? And with all those debts of yours too, such a shame. What will your little sister do when she finds out her big brother can no longer look after her?"

Vash refused to answer, clenching his jaw him anger. He could feel the unspoken threat in the room. One wrong move and he would be dead, yet here were all these threats and he was still alive. So was Heidi, she had not been touched, nor had she been told the truth these women obviously knew. How they knew though he did not know, nor did Vash really want to find out. They had obviously been watching the house, and watching him too. These women wanted something from him, and if they did not leave with it he was a dead man and his sister too. He just couldn't see what money had to do with it; it was not how people like them usually worked. What did his debts have to do with anything?

And they had come from their 'brother'. It was obviously not Roma but perhaps another man with a lot of power and people's lives to ruin.

Unable to do anything with the threat of death looming over him, Vash sat down shakily into the seat, much to the pleasure of the women in front of him.

"Mr Zwingli, we have a proposition for you..."

oOo

The laundrette was empty when Roderich stepped inside, the bell above the door announcing his arrive with a cheerful tinkle. The room was hot and smell of the soap and the water hitting him in a warm wave. The front room which housed a few seats for waiting on was otherwise void of people, and the only presence in the room was the steam coming in through a crack that someone had left in the door that lead off into the back room where the cleaning was done.

Roderich was quite familiar with the small store, just a five minute walk from the master's house, as a butler he was used to doing the laundry with Eliza. But today he could not help but feel on edge. He had yet to talk to master Lovino, who had been asleep until late that morning what with the incident the night before, and since breakfasting he had been locked up in his room with Antonio. Only the whispered assurance of the bodyguard as he had ran down to return the tray has told him that they were making a plan to help him, and to not worry too much. Lovino would think of something and soon he would be gone, so until then he had to act normal and not arouse suspicion. So he had gone about his usual business, feeling as though his shadows were being dogged at every step, yet there was now a ray of hope for him.

Roderich and his family were going to get out of this mess he had made; he would live to see his child. The news filled his heart with joy so large he thought it might burst.

He rang the bell for attention, dropping the bag of laundry onto the floor with a loud thump. Roderich had been horrified last night by his own outburst, more so because it was in front of Lovino. He had expected immediate retribution for his acts and he had been shocked to find that the boy would help him instead of giving him in to his Grandfather. Not because he didn't think he wasn't a good boy, Lovino was kindness locked up in a tough exterior, but he was not brought up to conceal a snitch, unless he was in a body bag.

When Roma had called for Roderich about an hour ago he thought that had been it. He thought then he was a dead man and that Lovino had told, despite Antonio's claims of safety. But he and Lovino were still in discussion and Roma's office was bright and inviting, the occupant pleasant. Roma had asked him to take the clothes from the party to the laundry to be cared for properly and to save Eliza a bit of a job, he had of course hastily agreed.

Roderich tapped his foot in annoyance. _Where were the staff in this place?_ They were usually so reliable. He rang the bell again, feeling slightly annoyed at the time he was wasting. He wanted to get back to the apartment quickly; surely Lovino would not be too long formulating an idea for him. Roderich needed to get back to get his ticket out of this place, but the laundry and his duty came first came first. _Business as normal after all._

"Hello?" He called at last, feeling frustrated. Surely someone should have come to see who was ringing the bell before now. He tried to cock his head around the gap in the door, but at that moment the door behind him opened again with a tinkle of the bell. He turned to look at the newcomer, his mouth even opening to explain that he thought that the staff had gone on a lunch break, when his eyes met a familiar person's.

"Heracles?" He quizzed. The gardener didn't answer, but then again he never did talk much. The tall man slid forward slowly, his eyes fixed on him with a piercing intensity and Roderich took an unconscious step back.

"Is something wrong? Has the master mixed in something he shouldn't into the-" He cut short as the door behind the counter also opened, letting out a burst of sweet scented steam. A sigh of relief rose in Roderich that service was finally here, only to be cut short straggled gasp as he caught the sight of the suited Sadiq grinning at him through the mist. And it was not a friendly grin.

"Oh, he's certainly mixed in a little something he shouldn't have." The man sneered, reaching into his pockets.

Suddenly one and one made two, and Roderich lunged just as Heracles moved to grab him. But the sudden movement caught him off balance and he skidded into the washing bag, the contents flying up into the air in flashes of brightly coloured silks. Roderich tried to regain his balance and run but Sadiq bolted easily and quickly over the counter and grabbed him before he could get too far. Roderich would not allow himself to give up so easily. He struggled against the man's hold like a man possessed, screaming and lashing out at anything that moved. He was sure he felt his weak fist collide with the man's jaw, and a flash of pleasure shot through him only to be replaced by pain as the same arm was twisted behind his back.

He struggled even more, yelping against the pain but Heracles had recovered now and was grabbing his flailing limbs, bringing him under control enough so that a rag could be stuffed into his mouth and his hands tied. Roderich's shouts muffled into muted wailing. Sadiq took a step back and kicked him so hard in the stomach he slumped and saw stars, his breath catching in his throat that he struggled to regain with the rag in his mouth. His eyes streamed and his chest burned as his cheek lay against the cool tile of the laundrette. He would have panicked if he was wasn't mentally screaming. He could barely even respond when Sadiq and Heracles bundled him to stand, and his slight battle with Heracles gained him a slap across the face that stung.

Roma had found out.

He was a dead man walking.

**oOo**

**Thank you so much for reading and waiting patiently! Thanks to my beta!**

**Next update will hopefully be sooner than this one :) please review!**


	31. Overture

**So the update wasn't too long after all! This was one of the chapters I've been planning since foreveeer and I was actually quite quick writing it. I had a little help with Roma from my beta and boyfriend because sometimes he's a ass to write, but apart from that I had fun. **

**Hope you all haven't forgotten me out there! I am still writing! I am very pleased to see this monster of a story still getting favourites and alerts :) makes me so pleased and humbled to see people from across the world enjoying my story, hope I deliver what you want :')  
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**Anyway, here's chapter 31. And I'm gonna place a warning for violence right here...**

**Disclaimer- hetalia is not mine, I just like ruining the character's lives.**

**oOo**

Lovino's plans for Roderich were ready to put into motion, but if only he could escape the confines of his brother's room to complete the task of talking to the butler that he had set himself in Antonio's absence.

Feliciano had left early in the morning to go to school as usual, waking Lovino up from a groggy sleep in the process. He would have returned to the land of slumber, only he realised he had to worry about Roderich and his promises of the evening before. Resolute, he had not left his room since, too focused on dealing with the butler's problem to deal with the small significance of food or dressing. He was pretty much exhausted after a near sleepless night but the problem of the Russians had only shown Lovino how important it was to get Roderich and Eliza away from all this mess, especially since his own intervention with the police put the man in harm's way in the first place. Antonio had at least ensured he had eaten something to start off his day, almost force feeding him the breakfast which he ate grudgingly. It was only a small morsel because he felt too sick to eat a full meal. Nerves rattled around in the pit of his stomach constantly.

It had taken a good four hours of solid talking and brain power for Antonio and himself to formulate a plan to help out Roderich, and even then he was only moderately confident that it would actually work out. There may have been quicker ways around it but Lovino had to be sure that if there plan was to go ahead, it had to work. Their plan was pretty simple, Roderich would beg for a holiday with Elizabeta so that she could relax before the baby came. It was unlikely his Grandfather could refuse such a plea seeing as he was always concerned for Eliza's well-being. They would get the time off, and then the key of their plan was to give a false destination and disappear on the train to another part of the country. America was such a colossal place and it was easy to disappear, but Lovino refused to underestimate the power of his Grandfather's reach. He had argued it would be better if they got off the continent all together even though Antonio had seemed keen for them to worry about getting out of the city first. Eventually he had given in and helped discuss places for the pair to escape to. They decided it had to be somewhere not crippled from the war, somewhere a family could settle down in peace. They chose England as a destination because it was a big enough place to allow them to slip into obscurity and even better, it lacked any ties that Roma might follow if he decided to track down the pair. Besides, the air was clean and a place in the country would be perfect for a small family to start up.

So it was decided. By train then by boat, the butler and his wife would escape. But first they would need tickets and above all money which Lovino was supplying from his own accounts, he had nothing to use it on anyway and he saw no harm in handing to them what he believed to be a life saving amount. Then there was the hassle of getting fake I.D.s made, another of Lovino's insistences, but their discussion into where to get these was drawing on too long and Antonio had put a halt to that with the calm assurance that they would work on those things later. First things first, Roderich and Elizabeta need to leave the city. Lovino had sent out Antonio with a list of tasks to complete and the idiot had smiled and waved at him as he watched the bodyguard head off for a long walk into the city. The car would have been better and quicker but they could not ask Heracles to borrow it without explaining what it was for, and if he was being honest with himself, Lovino did not want to miss his brother's return home from school.

He had been worrying about Feliciano most of the day, the night before had been writhing under his skin all the time he and Antonio were tossing ideas backwards and forwards, and more than once the bodyguard had to bring him back to reality by clicking his fingers under Lovino's nose. Without Antonio to keep his mind focused he had found his mind wandering on topics he would have rather left untouched. He had paced his room so much he was surprised he had not worn his way through the floorboards, and when he was not pacing he was staring out of the window waiting for Feliciano's return. He probably should have been trying to find Roderich to inform him of their plans but he found himself unable to until he had seen his brother return home safe. Lovino couldn't help but return to dwell on the poisonous thoughts that had been pushed aside as he had been planning for Roderich:_ what if Feliciano had not been quick enough? What if Ludwig hadn't heard the movements as soon as he did? What if the assassination attempt had not failed? _It made his heart and head pound with worry so much so that he had ceased his pacing to sit in the window seat and wait, anxiously tapping his leg.

Lovino had therefore been more than relieved when he caught sight of Feliciano and Ludwig walking back home and up the street. He was not ashamed to admit that he had pulled his brother into a large welcome hug that almost ran the smaller boy off his feet, in contrast to the usual affair of Feliciano tackling him to the floor. He had tried to hold himself back from acting like such a soppy idiot, but as soon as he'd seen his little brother it just felt natural and somehow needed. It had been worth it to endure the humiliation of the tender glances Elizabeta had cast at them as the brothers had met at the foot of the staircase all for the laughter that Feliciano had tickled against his ear as he had returned the hug.

But he realised he had stayed too long in Feliciano's room. The sound of the clock ticking filled the pause in between his brother's chatted conversation about some girl or another at school, its loud echoes reminding the elder brother once again of the passing of time and the duties he had yet to carry out. A look in the direction of the clock face, mounted on the wall above his brother's messy desk that was filled with incomplete pieces of homework and unfinished sketches, confirmed his suspicions of the time. It was past five in the evening now, and he had yet to speak to Roderich, his thoughts had been too focused on his brother for any consideration of the butler but now he felt guilty.

"I'm going to have to head off." Lovino excused himself. He attempted to stand up but Feliciano grabbed him before he could move any further, almost forcing him to topple over. Across the room, Ludwig glanced up from his book to watch the display with tired eyes. He had been up most of the night too, perhaps longer and the bodyguard had to endure a day at school too. Lovino almost felt sorry for him, almost.

"Feli, I need to go now." Lovino put on an easy smile for his brother but the younger boy shook his head in refusal. Internally he groaned.

"Do you have to go?" Feliciano whined, pinning himself onto Lovino's arm in a vice like grip. He sighed and tried to pry his little brother's fingers off, nearly dragging the smaller boy along with him from the seat. He felt terrible leaving him, he wanted nothing more than to sit with his brother and keep him in his sights because the night before had been beyond terrible. Lovino never wanted to go through that fear and uncertainty again. The shadow of the memories which had refused to leave Lovino all day blurred his thoughts, but he shone light on it with reason. _Feliciano was fine, he was right here, and he himself had a job to be doing._

"I've stayed with you for ages." Lovino argued patiently, a lot more than he normally would allow in these sorts of situations. He was usually quick to flick off his brother in annoyance but Lovino had found himself staring at the horrid cut on his brother's face more than once during the conversation, and he had to constantly hide the feeling of anger he felt at the wound. Feliciano had clearly not forgotten the acts of the night before himself, as even though on the surface he appeared chirpy and happy he was clearly craving attention. He was trying to be less irritating and being more affectionate; still his voice was reaching a childish pitch as he entreated him to stay with him.

"Not for that long." Feliciano pouted. In the corner of the room Ludwig shook his head slightly in drawing on despair. "You never sit with me anymore. We used to hang out all the time, now you're always working or with Antonio."

Lovino winced at the hurt in his brother's voice, internally cursing both Roderich and the Russians for their terrible timing in all of this. He wished he could return to the life Feliciano was talking about, everything had been much simpler then. No sneaking butlers to be saved, no paper work to do, and certainly no assassinations to stress over. Lovino half wished he was back in the ice cream store with Alfred moaning in his ear every five minutes.

"I'm sorry." Lovino said, and he meant it. He hated to see the tears that welled up in his brother's eyes, so much so he couldn't help but lean over and kiss his forehead even though Feliciano's thin fingers were digging into his arm. He didn't want to go, but for Roderich time was of the essence. He was surprised that he hadn't come to see him yet at all, meaning he must be extremely busy and so Lovino would have to go to him instead.

"I'll spend time with you later, I promise. I just need to do some work for an hour or so, Feli. Grandpa will be upset if I leave it unfinished and you know it." Feliciano didn't seem convinced. Lovino rolled his eyes and played his ace card. "How about this, I'll come back later and then you could paint me or something, yeah?"

Lovino knew he had sealed a deal there. He had never let his brother draw him, not willingly at least. As far as he knew, Feliciano had never drawn a picture of him. He was always prattling on about him being a lovely model, and that Grandpa would love a portrait of him to be hung up in his office next to all the landscapes of Italy that Feliciano had also painted, using photographs as a reference.

The younger boy's eyes lit up at the promise and he smiled slightly.

"Throw in a few sketches and it's a deal." Slowly the hands around his arm released and Feliciano allowed Lovino to take a step back, looking up at him with eyes forlorn. The younger boy jokingly took his hand and shook it for him, sealing the deal with a short laugh. Lovino ruffled up his hair in reply.

"No problem, as long as you get my best side."

"What best side?" Feliciano asked innocently, albeit with a sly grin. Lovino chose not to reply and instead faked a punch to his brother's stomach, ignoring the wince of disapproval that Ludwig gave from the corner of the room.

"Less of the mouth." Lovino scolded him as he stood up straighter to leave. He was at the door and had it open in less than four strides. With one last look he turned back into the room to see his brother looking a lot more cheerful than he had when he had come home, even with the sore slash still marring his face. "I'll see you later, Feli."

He closed the door on his brother's reply and with a sigh to adjust himself, set out on his search for Roderich on the second floor. The bathroom was empty, as was Lovino's own room and Antonio's. He only glanced into the bodyguard's, opening the door and closing it quietly when the butler was not to be seen. With a huff of annoyance Lovino pondered where the man could be, he was usually always in sight. Perhaps he was downstairs? Lovino walked to the end of the corridor to look over the edge of the balcony, only to see a disappointingly empty tiled floor beneath him. Straining his ears for a sound that wasn't the murmur of his brother talking to Ludwig, Lovino could distantly hear the clatter of pots and pans from the kitchen. Breathing in deeply he found the scent of cooking food on the air. A rumble of his stomach and a quick look at his watch told him it was just past five in the afternoon, meaning that although he had missed lunch, dinner could not be far off.

Lovino decided he would check the kitchen and he could also get a snack too while he was at it, without a doubt Roderich would be in there preparing the meal anyway and he could kill two birds with one stone. With quick steps he hurried down the stairs and onto the main lobby, his socked feet slapped across the tiles just as a cloud covered the skylight overhead. He was surprised by the sudden gloom and Lovino looked up without breaking his stride just in time to see the dark grey mass cover the sun ominously. He shivered at the promise of rain and bad weather, but he knew they were due a storm. _Perhaps tonight? _Lovino entered the kitchen with his eyes still looking upwards.

"Oh, Lovino!" Elizabeta greeted him warmly. She was stood alone at the stove. One hand was stirring the pot in front of her while the other was gently placed on top of the bump on her front. Apart from her the kitchen was empty, but tidy as always. "Good afternoon, I haven't seen you very much all day. I hope you haven't been working too hard, it'll wear you out, you know? If you're hungry you're going to have to wait until dinner though, I'm afraid it's not ready yet."

He quickly recovered from his confusion caused by the lack of Roderich exactly where he had expected him to be. He hadn't thought it would be Eliza cooking, especially since most of the food preparation was done by the butler these days in consideration for his wife. But Lovino had been mistaken and Roderich was not in this part of the house, but that didn't mean his wife wouldn't know where to find him.

Lovino leaned over the counter to peak at what it was she was making, it smelt amazing and he couldn't hold back the growl of his empty stomach which she laughed at lightly.

"Have you seen Roderich?" He asked as he inspected the pot. The food was brightly coloured and seemed to be a lot of vegetables in some form of stew which Eliza was stirring with careful attention. His mind went over the ingredients and herbs he could smell before he stopped himself. Damn, he missed cooking.

Elizabeta paused to consider his question, lowering her spoon slightly, her small eyebrows puckered in thought.

"No," she returned slowly after a moment. She shook her head and blinked. "No, sorry, I haven't seen him since dinner time. I think he had errands to run for your Grandpa in town, though he said he wouldn't be long."

"What would keep him out of the house then?" Lovino quizzed aloud. He briefly considered taking some fruit from the bowl on the table but the glare that Elizabeta shot him was a warning one. Damn, she was like a mother sometimes. He felt sorry for their poor kid; its parents were going to be super strict. Roderich was a stickler for the rules but Elizabeta was a matriarch, Lovino had no doubts as to who wore the pants in that relationship. His old friend might have been pregnant but he still feared what she would do with that spoon if he decided to risk it and snack before her carefully prepared meal.

"The master gave him the laundry to do." Elizabeta said, returning to her cooking. The smell of the food was heavenly and teasing, and Lovino felt his mouth water slightly. "But it doesn't usually take this long. Perhaps the place was busy; you know he has to stay with the washing until it's complete. If there was a queue he would have to wait, that Master hates the thought of his clothes in a strangers hands."

Lovino hummed in agreement, his mind elsewhere. A tinge of worry escaped from the back of his mind and into his thoughts. He hoped Roderich wasn't out doing anything reckless and stupid, especially when he had made sure that Antonio would inform the butler that they were making plans when he had collected his breakfast.

Well, waiting around here wouldn't do him any good. Perhaps he should check the rest of the house? Roderich could be somewhere in the apartment, in the music room cleaning the instruments or down in the basement taking a nap. It was a big house after all, it was possible to go on one floor for something and be missed for a while.

"I think I'll go and look around again." Lovino said, turning to leave but Elizabeta stopped him before he could reach the door.

"What do you need him for anyway, Lovino?" She asked. She wasn't looking at him and for a minute Lovino wondered how much she knew about her husband and the mess he had got himself into. _Why else would she quiz him?_ But she didn't seem defensive, just curious which was more than understandable. Lovino's only option in that case had to be to lie, because it was not his place to reveal to her Roderich's secrets. He would leave him to dig his own grave with that one. And no doubt it would hurt his old friend to hear her husband had done something so dangerous.

"I was going to ask him to get the autumn suits out a little earlier than normal." Lovino said easily, knowing it was a job the butler would be doing soon anyway. It wasn't even much of a lie. "The weather is taking a turn and I don't want to be caught unawares. They're going to need a good airing out."

"Yes, the weather has gone a little funny today," She said, her eyes glancing towards the window and her tone low and thoughtful. "I think it might rain."

"Hopefully Roderich won't get caught in the storm." He nodded, and smiled a quick goodbye which Eliza returned quietly, her thoughts still fixed on the window and the increasing clouds beyond. It made Lovino shiver again and he left the kitchen with the intention of fetching a jacket while still searching for Roderich, but the sound of footsteps on the staircase put that thought on pause. _Perhaps it was Roderich?_ He hurried to the foot of the stairs to check but it was not the butler that met him.

"Ah, Lovi there you are." His Grandfather hummed as he walked towards him. The suit he was wearing today was violent shade of mustard. It was surprisingly fetching on him, despite the horrible shade Lovino would have never dared to wear himself. Roma seemed pretty cheerful which meant that something had gone right and at the sight of his grandson it had got even better. Behind him Viktor hovered as usual, looking pale and disinterested.

"No Antonio?" Roma asked as he walked, interested. The lie fell off Lovino's tongue easily like honey.

"I let him have the evening off to go into town for a walk," He explained, smiling through it. It was a lot easier than expected. "I thought he was getting a little cooped up in here. He's not used to hanging around offices doing paper work after all, eh?"

His Grandfather laughed loudly. "No, of course not! I doubt that young man has ever seen a book! You are too good to that boy of course, but a break is allowed once in a while. I wanted to see you alone anyway; I have a job for you to do."

"More paperwork, Grandpa?" Lovino asked his heart dropping. It would be a shame if he did get more work, just when he was busy trying to avoid it. But Roma just laughed and drew him close to plant a two greeting kisses on either cheek as he reached the last step.

"No, no, my dear child." He laughed. Lovino felt confused, like he was missing out on a joke but he smiled along anyway. "It's just a small trip in the car. We won't be an hour or so, I have something I would like to show you. You will come?"

Lovino paused, unsure how to approach this problem. If he went with his Grandfather he would most likely miss Antonio's return and also miss out on explaining to Roderich the plans they had created for him. But if he did not go with his Grandfather he would most likely be furious, not to mention he would want an explanation which he could not give. Perhaps it would be better to go after all; his Grandpa was probably taking him to something for the business. Lovino considered the cheerful expression on his face and realised it was the face he wore when one of his plans had succeeded. He recalled the promises of last night in regards to the Russian's, he was surprised that it had happened so fast but then again this was his Grandfather. He should never underestimate anything.

"Is this to do with last night?" He asked, just to be sure. Roma smiled and cradled Lovino's face between his palms, his heavy thumbs brushing his cheeks roughly.

"Yes, will you come then?"

"Sure, I just need to fetch-" He started but Roma cut across him with a laugh.

"No need." The older man removed one hand and clicked his fingers. Viktor slid forward, moving his hands from behind his back to show Lovino's shoes sat in his hands ready for him to put on. His Grandpa must have been certain he would come to instruct his bodyguard to fetch his shoes. I would have been pretty weird if he'd said no... Or perhaps he just knew he couldn't refuse.

Lovino smiled awkwardly and took them as his Grandfather planted another kiss on his cheek before turning to Viktor to discuss with him the car journey. He wanted to complain that he might need a jacket in case the weather turned, but he supposed the journey wouldn't be long and he didn't think his Grandfather would be pleased with waiting. He had to admit, he was curious to see what it was exactly that had made Roma so cheerful and eager to be out of the house. Perhaps he has something of interest to show him. He felt a little guilty after not finding their butler but important as it was it could wait. Lovino could always deal with Roderich when he got back after all.

oOo

By the time they arrived at their destination, the clouds had successfully covered the sky and it was darker than it normally would be at that time in the evening, especially on a summer day. The dark mass that loomed over head carried the threat of an oncoming storm which was aided by the heat over the past few days. The air that blew was brittle and just warm enough to stop a chill but with a touch of cold that lifted the rubbish on the street below and made it rattle in the grates. It was as if any second the heavens would open and shatter like glass, raining down upon them in a deadly wave. As Lovino extracted himself slowly from the car with a click of shoes on pavement and looked around, he wondered why on earth his Grandfather would own such a lot as the one laid out before him.

It didn't seem to be in use for one thing, the lights in the building were all off and on closer inspection the place seemed so unused that it was falling into disrepair. Large chucks of the tiled ceiling were missing as well as large proportions of plaster from the outer walls. It looked unstable, but luckily it was separated from the other, nicer looking, although similarly uninhabited buildings. During the working hours of the day, Lovino assumed that this part of the docks was lively and full of the bustle of people, but during the evening there was nothing but large buildings and the distant reek of the river that splashed against the dock wall. A hand grabbed his shoulder and steered him forward, looking up he found his Grandfather gauging his reaction and he tried to seem more interested than he felt. To him this was just a bunch of moulding rocks and fit for nothing but demolition.

"What is this place?" He asked. _Why on earth had he been brought to this place when he should have been waiting for Antonio with the tickets and talking to Roderich?_ At the sight of the building he was certainly regretting his agreement to come along.

Roma smiled pleasantly.

"Officially this place is held by a company out of state and cannot be sold without consultation." He explained, moving the hand on his arm so that Lovino would avoid stepping into some debris as they drew closer to the building front. The shadows increased as they went into its shade, and Lovino couldn't help but shiver in his thin house clothes at the change in temperature: he really should have brought a coat. "But in reality this is my extra storage facility for particularly delicate goods. There is something I would like you to deal with."

Lovino hoped it wasn't anything to do with numbers because he'd left all the books with the records in back home. Neither did he want it to be some important decision because he would loathe to make one and get it wrong. Both were doubtful options when he considered that this whole trip to the other side of the city was meant to be regarding the Russians. Heracles, who as always had been their silent driver, dutifully opened the door to the warehouse as Viktor watched the road. Lovino was struck with how odd it felt without Antonio following after him and he half paused on the step of the building, unsure. A firm shove from his Grandfather's hand pushed him over the threshold.

It was as dark as he had expected but a light was turned on over their heads by a flick of a switch by the door, lighting up a large grey room that lead to a heavy looking door and a staircase leading upwards. It was clearly an entrance room, or at least it had been before the building fell into disrepair for now all the surfaces were dusty and only the footprints that cut through the collected grime on the floor showed that people actually used the building. There were desks with chairs on top of them, stacked out of the way and an ancient looking radio in the corner that looked like it hadn't been used in years. It made Lovino ever more curious, because whatever his Grandfather wanted from him it was obviously more important that the dusty rooms were letting on. It had to be. Heracles led the way forward towards the doors but before Lovino could follow him he was held back by his Grandfather who chuckled softly.

"Not yet, Lovi." He said, looping a heavy arm over his shoulder as Heracles went through the door alone. He had not stopped smiling for the whole journey which had been oddly silent, Roma merely holding Lovino's hand and rubbing it comfortingly throughout the long ride. Something was obviously going on; something important Lovino had yet to catch up on. Confused, he allowed himself to be lead towards the foot of the stairs, and seeing he was meant to go up them did as he was bid. The stairs were dark and unlit, but daylight filtered down from above, showing the passage to be murky and the dust on the steps untouched. There was only enough room for one so he lead the way uncertainly into the dark.

"Here we are." Roma sighed as they reached the top. They had emerged on a metallic mesh balcony that looked down on the warehouse below. Each step they took on the rusted metal clanged loudly but it seemed tough enough to hold their weight. Roma released his hand as Lovino moved to look out over the empty warehouse, his hands gingerly clutching the cool metal railings. The place was dim, but light enough to be lit by the dying daylight creeping in through the large river facing windows. The setting sun lit up the room a bloody orange and bounced off the unused metal scraps that littered the floor which glittered like sparks. Boxes of all shapes and sizes had been placed along the side of the building, some a lot more recently as they were clear of dust unlike the others that must have been there for years with the covering that had grown on them like mould. Lovino tried to pick out a problem for him to deal with but saw none forthcoming, and he could see nothing to tie with any Russians. Below them Heracles slowly walked across the floor only to disappear into another door at the far end.

Lovino jumped slightly as his Grandfather's hand brushed his neck; he had not noticed his approach.

"What would you do for this family, Lovino?" Roma asked softly and suddenly. Lovino flinched and looked up at his face but Roma seemed to be busy surveying the room below him. His hand moved in soft motions on Lovino's neck, his fingers grating against the short hair on the bottom of his neck. Lovino shivered, it was quite cold.

"What do you mean, Grandpa?" He replied adding a small laugh. He felt a little lost at the question. _Where had that come from? What did it have to do with where they were right now? _A funny feeling settled in his stomach but he ignored it, focusing instead on his Grandfather's eyes.

"When I was your age, Lovi," Roma said with a small smile forming on his face. "I was building this family out of the dirt and putting ends to ties that would hinder its future. I didn't have much of a chance to enjoy myself with a business to run, and perhaps I have been a little too lenient in regards to your duties. But that is my fault. I ask again, what will you do for this family? For me and your brother?"

"Anything." Lovino answered, partly because it was the safe response, and partly because it was true. He would do anything for Feliciano: anything. He'd already done so much, and he was trying his best to make things work for everyone else in the house too.

That's all he wanted, for them to live in happiness together.

The family was his life and his everything, and he could not allow it to be ruined. He would do anything to stop that, wouldn't he?

Roma grinned and pulled his shoulder closer, bringing him into a crushing hug that knocked the air right out of his chest. He tried not to wheeze as his face brushed against the surprisingly scratchy material of the mustard suit. "Of course you will. I'm so very proud of you Lovino, your mother would be so happy to see the man you've become. And her death will not be forgotten, we will remove the Russian scum from our city. Together, one speck at a time."

Lovino didn't like this conversation but these were the Russians who had sent an assassin into their home and tried to kill his brother. He would be happy to see them gone somewhere they could never harm him or his own again. Lovino ignored the feeling rising in his stomach which flared at the thought of more death and destruction, forcing himself to suppress it because he knew you had to fight fire with fire and these people needed to be taught that they would not be messed with.

To protect Feliciano and the family he would do anything. Even ignore his own morals. It was the only way he could manage to keep up the fake smile that was plastered onto his face.

"Ah, here we are." Roma half purred into his ear, turning Lovino around as the sound of large metal doors opening ground out through the large hall. At the far end of the building the door that Heracles had gone through reopened, it seemed as if it lead off to under floor rooms from the glimpse of downward stairs that it offered before Lovino caught sight of the people coming out of it.

Heracles and two other men, who he recognised to be Sadiq and Mathias, were hauling another man between them who was limp and close to unconsciousness. His feet scrabbled, insect like across the floor as he struggled for purchase with his failing limbs. There was a bag over his head to obscure his features but the sight made Lovino's heart stop in horror and his stomach drop somewhere into his shoes. _What-?!_

"Come along, Lovino!"

Why on earth did his Grandfather sound so cheerful? The older man practically bounded down the stairs before Lovino's brain caught up with his shaky legs and he hurried to follow after him, his mind churning through what was happening without coming to any reasonable conclusion. _Who was the man down the stairs? What did he have to do with any of this? _People that were allies were not treated like this, only enemies held that honour. Or at least he knew of the treatment, he had never seen it himself. Maybe his Grandfather believed it was him time, it was perhaps it was one of the Russians. His Grandfather had caught one in his web and was planning to away with them. A horrible thought.

Lovino should have asked his Grandfather for an explanation, but he found himself unable to form a word. There was no time either. The older man was already in the other room could nothing but follow him through the double doors that Heracles had left through and enter the large warehouse space he had seen from above.

Roma's step was brisk across the bare concrete, his polished shoes clipping along the surface and echoing across the room. Lovino's own approach was much quieter and slower as he followed anxiously. The masked man froze at the sound of their combined footsteps, his head blindly turning in the direction they were approaching from. The sound seemed to invigorate him into movement and his struggles were renewed, but not enough to allow him to escape. The three lackeys wrestled with him and slowly brought him forward. A quick push by Heracles had the man on the floor and Mathias grabbed the man's bound hands. The blond reached to the floor to heave up heavy metal chains that Lovino hadn't noticed from the balcony which clanked and scraped with their own weight. At one time they must have been used to chain down the boxes that would have been stacked throughout the room, but now they were threaded through the man's arms and reattached to the floor with a solemn finality, restricting his movement. It left the stranger in a crouched position like he was praying, his hands thrust forward and his back bent.

"How has our guest been?" His Grandfather asked as he stopped in front of the man who flinched at the sound of his voice. The lackeys had backed up to a reasonable distance and Sadiq, who couldn't seem to remove the smug grin from his face, cracked his knuckles in a meaningful manner. The action made Lovino feel sick.

"He's been great, Boss." Sadiq chuckled, a sly glint in his eye as he watched the man on the floor writhe a little against his bindings. "A real treat."

Up close there was a distinct smell of urine and blood in the air, a sickening smell that clogged the air and Lovino's mind with pity and a hint of disgust. He wanted to step away but curiosity and his Grandfather's eye made him stay and survey the scene. The man before Lovino had clearly been stripped of his own clothes because the ones he wore were too large and too clean for him when the bloody hands that poked from the bottom of the shirt were taken into account. The skin on his neck was sweaty and clogged with filth as if he had been rolling in the grime of the floor, a grime which was only just starting to rub onto the collar at his neck. He was shaking and whimpering like a beaten dog, keeping his hooded head down in fear. His wheezed breath was agonizing to hear and every movement he made spoke of painful injuries. Lovino felt sicker just looking at him because up close the damage was much worse than he had expected.

_Just who was this poor guy?_

"Good, good." Roma said, lacing his hands over Lovino's shoulders once again, the solid weight keeping him in place even though his body felt like bolting. "And you've had a nice long chat?"

Mathias answered this time. The usually cheerful man seemed withdrawn and his tone when he spoke was more toned down than normal.

"He's said enough, but nothing about today-"

"He's denying it was even him," sneered Sadiq over the top of his voice. "Which we all know is bullshit."

And with that he delivered a swift kick to the man's side, enough to make him yelp in pain and double over coughing, his bound hands attempting to scrabble across the floor. Lovino was horrified and took an automatic step back from the sight but his Grandfather kept him in place with a painful squeeze. He tried to form words of complaint but they lodged in his throat at how at ease his Grandfather seemed at everything. His own head was reeling in an attempt to process what was going on.

"Let me speak to him." Roma smiled. He waved at Heracles. "You, remove the hood."

Heracles nodded silently, his face unmoving as he hurried forward to complete the task. The man attempted to move his head which slowed down the unknotting of the cords that kept the material on his face. Lovino realised he did not want to see the face of this man, and that whoever it was, Russian or not, it would haunt him. He just wanted to leave, this was beyond him. Lovino didn't want to see people hurt in front of him.

"_Nonno_-" He tried to speak but his voice was shaky and uncertain. He didn't think his Grandfather would hear it however, the older man caught his name and gave Lovino what he most likely thought was a friendly squeeze of his arms. It actually felt like the man was trying to keep him stood still, and it halted the movement of Lovino's legs that were attempting to pull him away.

"This man is a rat, Lovino." He explained as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. His tone was calm, almost cheerful as he watched Heracles finally undo the last knot. "A filthy, disgusting rat, nestling in our confidence. And we know what happens to rats."

Lovino swallowed against the painful lump in his throat that refused to budge, his eyes suddenly draw to Heracles and the stranger on the floor in almost a morbid curiosity of his identity. The hood seemed to be removed too slowly, revealing the features of the man beneath a little bit at a time.

When the sack finally away, Lovino could not believe who he was seeing. A strangled gasp crept past the blockage in his throat unbidden as his mouth fell open in surprise.

Roderich's snowy features were blackened and misshapen like an ice sculpture that had been smacked to the dirt and beaten out of shape, and Lovino could see the cracks. The man before him was broken and scared, and only recognisable by the thin wire glasses hanging crooked off his nose. The usual pristine countenance of his face was tarnished under a layer of bruises and blood. His dark eyes were large and they took a while to focus on the room, but when they did they fixed on Lovino with a horror that pained him to see.

There was a stomach turning layer of betrayal clouding his eyes.

No, no, _no_. This could _not_ be happening- _how_ could it have happened? He was the only one to know and he had not spoken a word, yet somehow here Roderich was. And labelled as a rat no less. He had been beaten and tortured, that was clear, but there was no reason for it. No way that his Grandfather could have found out and struck out with so much vengeful force. Lovino hadn't said anything! _It wasn't me_!, he felt like screaming aloud, but instead he bit the inside of his lip hard enough to taste blood. Lovino shook his head a fraction, hoping to convey his meaning, but damn it! If it didn't look like Lovino had said something to his Grandfather then nothing did! The pain in the butler's eyes was agonising, the lack of faith burning. No, NO!- it was not him!

He had no answers, and no time to mull them over because his Grandfather knew. He_ knew_. And that hit him like a ton of bricks, hard enough to make him sway and hold his breath. If he knew about Roderich, did he know that Lovino had been planning to help him? Heir or no heir he would be punished for it. There was always Feliciano after all, a perfect backup if there was any. If his Grandfather knew he had been helping the man in front of him then he would be next when it was him that had tried to help him escape. His bodyguard had been getting their escape tickets planned moments before he left the building!

His mind suddenly jumped to Antonio and he worried that he would be all right, even though he knew the Spaniard could look after himself he still worried. Maybe he would be captured too? Maybe they would bring him out similarly beaten and bruised?

Lovino should probably have been more concerned with his own predicament considering the three men in the room and his Grandfather's hands on his arms. He licked it lips nervously, tasting the salt of the sweat that had started to form there and tried to keep steady on his feet even though his mind swam. If his Grandfather knew everything, then he would know that it was Lovino's own mistakes that had brought the Police to their door. It was his fault that Roderich had supplied them with information.

But it was of course impossible to know all of that when no one knew. It was his secret alone, so perhaps for now Lovino was safe.

Roderich was the one to be worrying about, and Lovino felt helpless.

"I am sure I do not need to introduce you two." Roma said to Lovino. His tone was still good natured, and grip around his arms was tight. He was sort of thankful for it; he doubted he would still be standing up on his own.

Below them Roderich wheezed, his teeth gritted together as he looked up at Lovino, his eyes turning from betrayed to pleading. Unsaid words passed between them, Lovino could practically hear the other man begging him to do something- anything. But he was stumped at what he was meant to do, his hands felt numb, his eyes stung and his body seemed to be taking a while to function. It was hard to take a breath and it took Lovino an excruciatingly long minute for enough breath to reach his lungs to allow him air to speak.

"He- he-" Lovino attempted to form words but stopped because he felt too sick to speak. Luckily Roma took his lack of speech as confusion rather than fear and went into an explanation.

"You see, Lovino," Roma spoke, detaching himself away from his body to circle Roderich instead. Lovino drooped without his prop but managed stayed upright, watching as the dark haired man cowered below his Grandfather like a fly caught on a web that sensed the approach of the spider. "Roderich is here at my digression because he has decided to sell out your family to the highest bidder. First to the police about the hotel and then plans I had to put a stop to the interference with the Russians. Now I am going to have to make them drop the case by force seeing as they have refused my nicer offers which is such a bother. Because of Roderich, my plans have been once again disrupted and I am made to look like a f_ool_."

He hissed the final word with venom and something flickered under his skin, and the next second his Grandfather had lashed out with a swift kick to the gut leaving Roderich once again coughing, blood speckling the floor at Lovino's feet. This time Lovino could not help but back away from the sight, so used to violence at his Grandfather's hands he had very rarely saw him deal it out on others. And never their butler, he was Lovino's friend. He was one of the family, but here was Roma beating up the man that had lived in their home for years because of his suspicions and his actions against the family.

In a distant part of his mind Lovino realised that he himself had gotten away with his involvement, and that Roderich was merely the answer to all his Grandfather's problems. He was simply a conclusion he had reached from adding two and two together, but that didn't remove the danger by a long shot. Lovino knew that this could turn bad any moment for both of them and he had to stop it- but only if he could stop shaking.

"I do not tolerate insubordination, and I am not a forgiving man." His Grandfather's voice when he continued was surprisingly pleasant as he continued his circling, making the arc wide around the now gasping man on the floor. "Nor am I stupid. It was plain to see the between events; all the details for were given in front of Roderich. He heard everything and sold us out. Even my plans for today, ruined by a coward of a man. I don't doubt that he even spilt our information like blood at the feet of the Russians-"

"Not the house!" Roderich gasped out, the first words he had spoken since Lovino had seen him. His tone was cracked and broken, but it broke through Roma's monologue and made the older man's head snap in his direction. "Never Feliciano- please-"

The crack of bone was resounding but not a piercing as the scream that issued from the butler's mouth. Roma's swift stomp on the other man's unprotected leg was delivered with a crunch and a snap, and with no remorse on his dark features. Lovino thought he would throw up right there and covered his mouth to stop his gag, tears springing to his eyes.

He knew that Roma was accusing the butler of trading information with the Russian group, and had Lovino not known which parts of the guilt were true he might have sided with his Grandfather and felt as disgusted as his older face showed. Instead he silently screamed at the attack because he knew that in this case Roderich was innocent, but he could not say it without revealing his own treachery. If his Grandfather found out-

No- he had to hold it together, but oh god that was Roderich. The man- no, the friend, he had promised to help! All he could do was watch like a coward as Roma sniffed in distaste and backed away from the sobbing body before him as though he could not see the fear and the pain making track marks on the butler's dirty cheeks. He was like some horrid stranger. Lovino couldn't even bring himself to look at Roderich's leg, and instead he stared wide eyed at the hands wrapped in their binds that twitched to hold the broken limb. An acidic taste rose in his mouth as he shook.

"You do not say my grandson's name. And do not lie to me." His Grandfather hissed. He moved back to Lovino in a quick stride, returning his hand to his shoulders, seemingly not noticing Lovino's own fragile state. "Your actions have endangered me and my family, and you will pay the price." He turned to Lovino, and spread his spare hand to the man in front of them. "This is what I wanted you to see."

Lovino shivered as his Grandfather turned him to look away from Roderich and instead into the burning of his eyes. With both hands on his shoulders he spoke softly to him.

"He has put our entire family in danger," he said patiently. Lovino didn't want to hear this, but he found himself entranced. "All for some extra cash to line his bloated pockets. And this is the thanks I get after I put a roof over his head and food on his plate. I invited him into our lives to take a share of what we have, give him more than he would have ever had as the son of a pauper. I gave him a job and his life and he should be fucking licking the dirt off my shoes."

His hand stroked Lovino's cheek as the feeling of knowing started to settle over him and Roma's voice seemed to come from far away.

_Had it always been this cold in the warehouse, this dark?_ He shivered in growing apprehension.

"Family men know how to protect their families, Lovi, and in that way you are just like me. You're a man who will do _anything_ in order to protect those he loves." Roma kissed the cheek he had just brushed with his burning hand, so, so tenderly but to Lovino it felt like each touch and caress were knives. He could see where this was heading and he was almost shaking his head already in refusal, his mouth dry and his knees shaking. "I could do this myself it would be most selfish to deny my grandson the honour of stepping to the plate to maintain the great things I have created. For the family."

Lovino didn't know when Viktor had entered the room. He certainly had not noticed or heard his approach, but the next second he was by his shoulder and holding out his hands. He recognised the object in the bodyguard's hands not on sight, his mind was too muddled for that, but by the terror filled groan behind him and the clanking of chains as Roderich struggled to escape from the gun that waited in the bodyguard's hands. The room span a little but Lovino managed one word.

"No." He found himself saying, his gaze fixed on the gun. It was the same one from his room he realised, the one he had received as a gift and hidden away under his bed like a child hiding a dirty secret from his parents. Lovino had never thought he would see it again, nor that he would have to use it.

And certainly not for this.

His Grandfather stiffened at his word and blinked as if processing it. When he next spoke his voice was dangerously quiet. "Boys, will you go into the entrance room and keep an eye out. Play some music or something. I don't want us disturbed."

Sadiq and the others seemed surprised at the strange request, their eyes widened but they did not question their boss and strode around Roderich on the floor. Sadiq spared a second to spit at him. The butler made a weak whine at the back of his throat, ignored by all but Mathias who cast him a sad look before pursing his lips and closing his eyes. He strode past the others, leading the way back through into the entrance room. Viktor handed the gun to Roma with a nod and followed after them. Within minutes the room was empty but for Lovino, his Grandfather and Roderich, who squirmed on the floor, his haggard breath grating the edge of Lovino's fragile nerves.

"Grandpa, please-" He tried but the older man cut across him with a voice like a knife. Lovino could not understand how he could go from cheerful to sombre within seconds, all because of one word.

"'No', Lovino?" He asked, painfully squeezing his arms with one hand, the other holding the gun hanging by his side. "'No'? Boy, this is a chance to prove yourself to me, and to get your revenge on a man who threatens your family. To become a man. How can you refuse such an offer?"

Lovino couldn't help but look in Roderich's direction and immediately wished he hadn't. His dark eyes, full of pain and fear, pleaded with him, tearing right into the weaknesses of his soul as they had the night before. Lovino knew he could never think badly of the man before him because he was not a sneak, he was a friend. He had always been his friend. To kill Roderich would be to kill one of the family.

This was his fault. Without his own mistakes-

"Lovino!" His Grandfather's harsh voice and his fingers in the skin of his arm brought him back to reality. He regretted looking back into those angry, burning eyes. "I asked you a question!"

He couldn't help but jump when suddenly there was a burst of music that echoed through the hall. The men in the other room must have got the ancient looking wireless to work and its tinny music sound filled the hall, the sounds of violins and pianos haunting bouncing from every surface.

_Roderich had taught him to play_-

"I can't," Lovino murmured, his eyes stinging and his hands shaking. It hurt to speak against the dry, rough feeling of his throat. "Please, Grandpa. Not Roderich."

"This man did not show the same consideration towards you when he was sharing our information with everyone with an open purse." But he hadn't done it for the money; he had wanted an escape for his own family. _Anything_- "He did not care like you do. He could have potentially ruined everything I have created and you will revenge me."

"Can't we just let him go?" He pleaded. Lovino's tongue felt lose in his mouth, his head heavy. The music was disorientating at best, the jaunty tune jarring at such a moment. _Why had they turned it on?_ "Send him away, he'd never spread information again. We don't have to kill-"

The slap across his face brought stars to his eyes and his legs sagged. Only the tight hold of his Grandfather's hand on his shirt front kept him standing against the sudden stinging pain in his cheek. The music was all he could hear, even though he could see his Grandfather's mouth opening and closing before him. Like a radio being tuned he suddenly was able to hear, but it was not his Grandfather's voice.

"Leave him alone!" Roderich's voice was breaking but there was force and anger to it, more than Lovino had ever heard before. Roderich had never been a forceful man, and he very rarely raised his voice and only used it to tutor him and his brother over the sounds of the music they played. It was a delicate voice meant for a concert hall, not a grimy place like this. Not with the blood decorating his face.

"You _monster_, let him go!" He snarled, eyes flashing passionately behind cracked glasses. "Don't bully him like you bully everyone else, just to get what you want-"

Roderich was silenced by a swift kick to the face; one that sent him reeling as far back as the chain would allow him, his whole body arching at the attack. Lovino winced when he sat forward again at the sight of the blood dripping from his nose and into his mouth, so much that it dribbled to the floor as he spoke.

"You're a coward." He spat. Lovino didn't quite know where Roderich's strength to speak was coming from but he could see it was costing him. The butler's initial resolve was leaving him and his hands were shaking, perhaps in pain, perhaps in fear but he carried on regardless. "You're afraid to lose-"

"And you do not know what it feels like to win." Roma snarled haughtily in return. Lovino thought for a moment that his Grandfather would strike the other man again but his eyes merely narrowed in dislike. He turned back to Lovino who flinched under his dark and imposing gaze.

"Do it, now." He said. The gun was thrust into his hand with little ceremony where it sat, cold and unpleasant against his skin. Lovino almost dropped it but his hands wrapped around the unforgiving metal automatically fixing it to his hand. It felt alien and wrong. He couldn't do it. The music blurred his senses as he stood motionless. _Such__ a happy tune, it shouldn't be happy- no-_

Eventually his Grandfather got annoyed with his lack of movement and turned Lovino so that he was facing Roderich. Those dark eyes met his own with fear as the arm he held the gun in was lifted so that the barrel was aimed squarely at his head. The song rose in a wavering crescendo, echoing throughout the room.

The timing was almost in tune to the erratic beat of his heat: _one, two, three, one, two, three_. The force of each note bashing together like the speed of his heat that pounded somewhere deep in his chest like it was trying to burst out.

"It's easy," Roma spoke to him somewhat softly as he held the hand with the gun aloft. "Raise your hand-"

_Make sure you hold the violin steady, and keep your fingers relax__ed on the bow_. The memory was as clear as the room before him. Lovino was six and they had been in America for nearly a year. Roderich was just over twelve and already saw himself as a master of all the instruments in the house. Feliciano was a gurgling three year old on Eliza's lap as she giggled, plaiting the younger boys hair.

He would never forget the eyes that watched him critically, so even and judging but so warm. _When had Roderich stopped being warm? Stopped being happy?_

"Keep your shoulders-"

_-straight and tilt your chin down_. He had thought the lesson was stupid, Lovino had only gone along with it because it was something to do while it was raining outside. He had struggled at first to master it but Roderich had insisted he had a talent. He had been stubborn as usual and refused at first but with a little coaxing-

The chords of music increased and strained. Roderich's face, blood splattered and bruised, was damaged but it was still his face. Still him. Even after his lies, even after everything, he was still Lovino's friend. The one who had believed in him enough to teach him to play. The man who he had trusted to tell his secret; the man who had entrusted him with his family's life and his own.

The man who had begged Lovino to save him. _Anyth__ing._

"That's-"

_All there is to it_. He had seemed so smug right then, a pale faced young boy in a suit too large on the arms. He had needed no one then, the true little master of the house lording it over the younger boys and Eliza, the maid's daughter. Roderich had been the oldest. But then his father became ill, and then he died, and then Roderich wasn't the same any more. Only the violin lessons were constant. He had pushed and pushed Lovino. Pushed him often so hard he would have a stiff neck from playing for so long and blisters on his fingers. Lovino had given up before Roderich had.

And he had never lost faith in him.

_The violins were always ready to play._

"Then pull the trigger-"

"I can't." Lovino gasped and shook his head; his soul shook with him, removing the cobwebs of memory to see before him a man he could not kill. Not after everything. Not ever. He owed it to Roderich, he had promised. Roderich had only done what he had needed to do to protect his family, how could he do this for something he himself would have done in a heartbeat?

"It's not difficult." Roma argued, anger finally bubbling to the surface of his tone as he sounded frustrated. More pressure was applied to his hand as his Grandfather adjusted his grip. He was no longer holding up the arm but also holding the gun so that he could not release the weapon, his fingers bound to the metal. "And you will do what I tell you to do-"

"Please." Roderich's whisper was almost lost to the sound of the music and swallowed up by the increasing number of instruments. There were tears in his eyes and on his face, but no passion now.

"Please, Lovino, don't do this-"

"Lovino, do as say. Hold the gun properly-"

"I'm sorry." Roderich was quieter than Roma but his voice carried further. Even over the music, even over his Grandfather, he could still hear the faint words of their butler falling to the ground like the tears that slid over his face. "I'm sorry for what I did. Please, don't-"

"No-" Lovino tried to back away but a large hand held him in place. He barely noticed the pain in his fingers.

"This is not up for discussion-"

The music, there should not be music not now.

"Please. Eliza, the baby-" _Please, please, please_. He tried to drop the gun but the hands held him in place with a burning grip.

It was so, so cold.

He couldn't- it would be betrayal, no, no, stop-

"_Nonno_-" Thick fingers digging into his skin was the answer to his half whispered words. His Grandfather's breath was loud and rapid against his ear. Roma's grip tightened on his own, the trigger shifted under the weight. He could not push back.

Music. Breath. Tears. _One, two, three_-

"Please-!"

_Click_, a burst of blood.

Lovino did not hear the shot, he did not see it. One second Roderich was screaming at him and the next-

The floor was tilted slightly, and the blood that ran out of the body like quicksilver ran in the concrete rivets to pool at their feet. Tiny shards of glass, pulled in the flood, chipped against the side of Lovino's shoe. He stared down at them, unable to look up at what was before him.

His ears rang and his Grandfather's breath still thudded against him. He sounded out of breath. Slowly, ever so slowly, the hands on him released their grip and the feeling returned somewhat to his fingers. Yet he still felt numb. Empty. Lovino could see the blood moving in his fingers as clearly as on the floor, yet there was no feeling. No emotion. He thought he would feel sick, sad; he thought he would scream.

He felt nothing apart from a sense of disbelief.

_It had not happened, it could not have happened._

"Well done, _tesoro_." Roma heaved into his ear. Lovino remained frozen as he looped his arms around him and kissed the top of his head. There was sweat in his hair, and something warm and wet clinging to his neck. His Grandfather felt heavy and hard.

"You have made me proud today." It was as if he had never complained. As if it had been all him. And hadn't it? His hands had been on the gun. Roma smiled into his hair, he could feel it through his scalp. There was something on the front of his Grandfather's suit, a red that classed horridly with the mustard shade of the material.

"Today you are a true member of the family, Lovino."

His Grandfather moved away then and shouted something, probably to the men in the other room. Something Lovino did not catch. The music carried on, cheerful and light as the blood pooled at his feet. With an aching movement Lovino found his leg shifting and placing him out of the way of the river that passed him, but his shoes were covered and he couldn't help but leave gory marks on the floor where he had stepped.

_No, this wasn't right._

Voices mumbled at the corner of his vision and the others moved around. A hand gripped his arm as they wandered past, a comforting touch. He did not see who it was, his eyes fixed to keenly on the floor and the blood below. Slowly his eyes were following the red liquid to its source and the steady dripping that broke through the music and the ringing that still pushed through his senses.

The butler's head was mangled; there was no other word for it. The bullet had passed cleanly through his eye and back out through the back of his head. His glasses had shattered, on impact or with the contact with the ground he could not tell, but they hung off his white face in a contorted mess of glass and metal. There was no pain on his features but his eyes, his eyes had frozen in pleading, the turn of his mouth set to beg. In death Roderich was still the poor, misguided man he had been in life.

Lovino found himself turning away from the corpse, putting one foot in front of the other in a steady walk towards the doors. No one stopped him; no one asked where he was going. He found himself passing through the tatty, dusty entrance room and out into the cold air. The music rose in volume briefly as he passed through the room and all but disappeared as he stepped outside. Rain had begun to fall from the sky, the storm above finally breaking as the drops began to fall in a crescendo of patters that bounced up from the dry, hot pavement. But soon the mass of them consumed the others and the concrete below was vast and black as Lovino stepped slowly towards the car, his hands finally starting to shake as the reality of his actions set in.

_One, two, three_... He was too far away to hear the music still playing now, but it was there in his head and so were the cold, dead eyes of his friend.

He had not just failed, he had become a monster.

**oOo**

**Ah, the irony of titles... So expected? Surprising? Let me know what you think :)**

**Sorry for people out there who really liked Roderich, he was a nice guy to write for but his influence over the story is not over yet! And I still have to deal with Elizabeta, the police, Gilbert, the Russians, Lovino... and well you get the drift ;) lots more to come! See you next chapter! :)**

**Don't forget to drop a review guys!:) They mean so much and I love getting all of them and I always try to return with a thank you message :)**


	32. Nuclear Fallout

**I did warn updates would be less regular folks! Sorry about that. This one was a little hard to write, thank God I have a wonderful Beta!**

**Thanks so much for the reviews last chapter and welcome to everyone who followed/favourited last chapter :) means a lot!**

**Disclaimer- Hetalia is not mine**

**Warning: This chapter is the equivalent of beating up Lovino with a stick!**

oOo

It was still raining.

Lovino sat alone in his room with the darkness stealing around him. His breath, shaky in the emptiness and the silence, helped him count the minutes as they passed by. He was almost thankful for the violence of the storm that rattled and shook his window frames in their sockets, the fall of the rain like small stones clattering against the glass. The summer storm had been a long time coming but it was here in full force. The sound was so loud it had even masked his clattered entrance back into his room. It was earlier in the evening than usual for people to be in bed, but everyone seemed to have retired early for the night. The night before had been a rough one for everyone and they must have been eager to catch up on their rest. Feliciano had been snoring when he has shuffled to his room, and Ludwig's apartment was as silent as a grave. All the better for Lovino who was allowed to retreat into his room unmolested.

He found however his mind quite empty of thought for the time being. Like his room it was silent and dark, and cold and empty. He shivered slightly against the damp sensation of the clothes that had been drenched in the pouring rain which stuck to his skin and chilled him like the arms of a sea creature wrapping themselves tightly around his body. A part of Lovino knew that he should remove them and get changed into something dry but instead he found himself rooted to the floor, his skin tightening around him as he fell deeper into his thoughts. Lovino stared into space and thought of nothing with only the rush of the rain and his own breathing to keep him company.

He tried to think of something, too restless to leave his mind blank for a fear it would stay like that. He needed a safe topic that held no threats. He thought of his sneaky entry back into the apartment and thought it odd that no one had noticed their return; surely someone must have heard the door bang when they had made their way indoors from the storm. His Grandfather had retired to his study and bed, Viktor the same. Even Heracles had made his way down to the basement and his bedroom. Lovino was struck with the sense that all night time wanderers obtain: the belief that they are the only ones in a home still awake.

Where then was Antonio? The bodyguard was a total pest; he would be in his room in a shot if he had heard his subject come back into his room after being out of the house for so long. Lovino had been quiet as he had eagerly detached himself from his Grandfather as the older man had wished him a good night, but Antonio's hearing was better than he gave the man credit for. He would have heard something.

Shouldn't he have come to find him then? He must have still been awake. After all, in the bodyguard's eyes there was still a plan in motion-

Lovino stood up, his weakened body finding enough strength from somewhere to make his arms pull him up of the floor. He was still wearing his shoes, horribly uncomfortable things, and they tapped out a rhythm against the cold tiles as his paced from one end of the room to the other. No, those thoughts were poisonous to his mind. He could not dwell on them, but suddenly that was all his mind was full of. After what felt like hours washing his thoughts away in the rain he had thought he would be safe, his mind had been so clear.

_Think of something else_, he told himself. His hands were shaking so hard that he pushed them into his pockets which were as wet and cold as the rest of him, just to hold them still. He shook violently as he paced so that his walk was robot like. If he hadn't devoted energy to keeping his breathing even, he knew it would turn to shallow gasping with his chest. He could not remember, he wasn't ready just yet. But it was no use; he kept on returning to those awful moments in the warehouse which made his very soul cringe.

_Something else, something else-_

_One, two, three-_ went the tap of his shoes against the floor. Lovino froze in terror. In a quick movement he had bent and ripped the offending articles from his feet, throwing them across the room so that they clattered into a dark corner. _Good, good._ His head reeled a little as he straightened up from his crouch but he continued his pacing as if nothing had happened.

Feliciano! His mind seized the name and his thoughts behind it, greedily pressing the name to his heart to grasp at whatever feelings of forgetting he could grab from it. His brother was a strong enough thought to block out any others for sure. Feliciano, his little brother. Lovino wondered what he had been doing this evening (he tried to avoid the term 'while he'd been out'). His brother was fond of most hobbies and was allowed the run of the house. But perhaps tonight he had chosen to read a little, maybe do some of the fabled homework he never seemed to get around to. The little shit still got good grades; Lovino had never been that talented but despite his airhead appearance Feliciano was smarter than he looked. He could have chosen any subject he wanted but there was talk that after his final year of school- coming so soon! - he would go on to do art at a college out of town.

Lovino didn't want to think of a house without his brother. He would be gone for weeks and weeks at a time leaving him alone with only his Grandfather for company, but if it meant his brother would be happy he would endure it. When he had a more sensible head on, going to college was all he could talk about. Lovino knew that Feliciano had some form of project coming up as a form of entrance examination; maybe then Feliciano had chosen to paint. Of all the chosen areas of art, his brother's favourite medium had always been paints: oils, watercolours, he loved them all. Even when he was a child and had been putting more of the sticky substance on his face than on an easel. He could have been finishing the portrait of Ludwig this evening, but then he would need the proper light for that. Or perhaps he had moved onto other subjects, he was forever talking about a family portrait with them all in-

His Grandfather, the servants-

_No, no, no._ That was no good, no good. Too close to the bone. Lovino hissed and massaged the ball of pain that was forming between his eyes. It was not the dark that was making his eyes burn, but it might have helped to turn on the light; but like his previous thought of changing clothes the idea crossed him mind before being shaken out like water. Turning on the light would mean that he would be able to see himself clearly in the mirror that hung on the wall opposite and he didn't want that now.

_Somet__hing else, something not directly linked to the family. _The family had too many references and links to him-

And he couldn't think about him. Not yet.

_Ludwig_, he would do. On face value the other bodyguard was very little to do with the family. He worked for it but to Lovino, Ludwig had always seemed a little clueless. Lovino rarely spoke to the man even though they had known each other for years. At first he had been a name on Viktor and Feliciano's lips, a grandson and a boy in his brother's class. He lived with his grandfather in an apartment on the edge of town ever since 1917 when he'd moved over from Europe. There were difficulties for Viktor in keeping a child when his job was a twenty four hour one and he could not keep darting from one home to theirs, it only made sense for the bodyguard and his grandson to move into the apartment permanently. That was seven years ago now. There had been enough rooms for the addition to the family and Ludwig had been a staple of the house for years. In all that time Lovino had never liked him much. He had been a sickly looking kid and he hadn't spoke much English when he'd first arrived in the country. Of course that meant his little brother lavished on the stranger rather than on himself but it was only in these past few years that the blond boy had come out of himself more and actually returned his brother's friendship.

Lovino was not ashamed to admit that beyond the knowledge of the other boy's love of fitness training and his links to Viktor, he actually knew very little about him. He was in Feliciano's class, although months older. He preferred beer to wine, a drink which Lovino himself found repulsive. And now there was the new detail of Gilbert, the brother of the younger bodyguard who had been hidden in the woodwork and was working for their family's rivals. Lovino had never heard him mention a brother, and even Feliciano had seemed shocked at the news. Apart from Viktor and very distantly Scipio, he had believed Ludwig had no other relations-

The mention of the pastor threw Lovino's mind into sudden dangerous waters as he was struck with the sickly sensation of the memory of the older man's dislike of him. As a man of God he should have liked everyone, yet there was something in Lovino he hated enough that he would forget his position as a holy man. Something foul enough to earn that hate of God himself. Hadn't he proven that this evening with his actions?

Lovino was overcome with a sudden heat, strong enough to make him stumble to the window to open it enough to let in the night air and increase the sound of the rain. It did little to help him and he only shivered against the breeze which was colder than he had wanted.

God would not like what he had done. If he would go to Scipio and admit his crimes he would be surely told he was condemned to the fiery pits of Hell. He had killed another in cold blood, for his own gain. A man he had known to be innocent. He had stood by and done nothing to help.

_Why hadn't he done more when he had the chance?_

Lovino internally writhed against the strength of his emotions. He knew he shouldn't be feeling sorry for himself right now. What right did he have to pity when it was by his own hand that the murder had taken place? If anything he deserved to feel as cold and as miserable as the grave he had fitted for his so-called friend. Lovino had forfeited his claim on all that was good when he had sinned the greatest sin a man could ever do. Only God could take a life: just because he had a loaded gun and a trigger to pull it did not make him a god. It made him a coward, a disease and he deserved to be treated as such.

He could not spread his nature onto Feliciano. He had to prevent his brother from turning out just as morally weak as he had.

For a moment Lovino's mind half considered leaving, his feverish and darting hands pulling open the wardrobe and dumping fistfuls of clothes onto the bed before his mind caught up with them and he stopped.

He could not leave. His hands shook at the thought. His Grandfather would never allow it, hadn't he just witnessed the extent of the man's power? The murder of the butler was only a fraction of the man's abilities. Even if he did manage to get away without ending up the same way as Roderich, which was unlikely, Feliciano would be made the heir of the business. His delicate brother who he had safeguarded all his life would be open to all the influences he himself had fell prey to. Lovino would rather die than see that happen.

But what would happen when Feliciano learnt of Lovino's own actions? He had not considered that, and shoved his fist into his mouth to bite down on it lest he moaned aloud. For years his brother's innocence had come at the sacrifice of himself, but what would happen if Feliciano found out everything? The murder, the police: God, the lies and deceit alone piled up into a stinking mound of mess. He had lied too much and was too far gone and this next deception could cause the balance of his life to crash down on top of him. He was trapped whichever way he turned. Yet he would still have to lie more to protect himself from his brother's hatred. He couldn't bear it if Feliciano hated him.

They could never come know what had happened to Roderich; never know of the part he had played in the murder, he decided. He briefly considered his Grandfather's influence and whether he would want to brag about the event, but the secrecy of the act suggested it would be kept quiet and brushed over. Evidence and blame was easy to spread around. There was no way Roma would tell the household what Lovino had done if Elizabeta was still here. The cold kiss of the gun ghosted against his palm and he clutched his hands around his face just to feel some form of warmth. His cheeks were disappointingly clammy but his forehead burned like fire and ached to touch.

_Lying_, he could do that. It made the bile in his stomach rise up once more but it needed to be done, and hadn't he had years upon years of experience at it? He'd lied to his teachers at school who had asked where the bruises on his wrist were from, and again when they had quizzed him on his future job choices. They had all been so very disappointed when he had gone onto work in an ice cream store of all places; they'd looked him in the eye and sighed, openly mourning the loss of someone so talented as him. He hadn't considered himself much of a loss and had merely shrugged when he'd picked up Feliciano from school. His teachers had looked at his little brother with even more promise and hope, it was impossible not to. He offered so much more than Lovino. The disappointment they had lavished on Lovino was equal, if not less, that the disappointment he felt from his own Grandfather when he refused to cooperate as the older man would have liked.

Feliciano had never been disappointed with him. His brother had always been the same smiling and kind boy, always supportive to his sulky brother. It was his cheerful innocence and his belief in Lovino was what caused Lovino to lie through his teeth and keep the tears inside. He could not be the filth he really was before his brother; to tell him the truth and allow him to see what vileness lay beneath his skin would be to lose everything he held dear. To see that disappointment that had become such a staple in his life in the one creation it had been void from: it would kill him.

Lovino realised he had slipped to the floor beside the bed when his head hit the side of the mattress with a soft thump. The strength had left his legs and he slumped immobile on the floor. He could feel the tears welling up somewhere deep in his chest, burning to break through. He could barely breathe with the strength of the feelings that hit him. Self loathing, fear, confusion, and above all the dark cloud of disappointment and the threat of the future. Lovino clutched his sides tightly, as if attempting to hold in all the emotions, and tried to steady his breathing because no- he did not deserve to cry or feel when he had robbed a good man, his friend, of his life. Crying out, or screaming would attract attention and bring someone running-

A soft footfall outside his room stopped his thoughts in their tracks. He was suddenly more aware of his surroundings. It was darker now in his room, and more messy than when he had entered. He was conscious of his own heavy breathing as the footsteps shuffled past in the dark corridor. It sounded as if the person was trying to make the least noise possible as they paused for a long minute at Lovino's door, listening just as he was, on the other side for any sound. He held his breath for good measure, very aware of the presence at the door. The person seemed satisfied by the silence and soon moved on, past his door and quietly into the next room. It was clearly Antonio. If Lovino had been asleep and not restless he would have slept straight through the visitation but as it was he had heard his bodyguard's late return. Minutes of near silence passed where the only noise was Lovino's own hushed breath and the quiet sounds of his neighbour readying himself for bed.

Oh to sleep, Lovino's body begged for it but his mind would not allow the rest. If he were to never sleep again it would be a mercy because then he would not be stained with dreams and guilt. He could not hold it off forever of course but he would try. He would clean his room first to stay awake. The mess would surely be suspicious anyway. He tried to rouse himself from the floor but his limbs were leaden, it took a heave and the bed as a steadying post to pull Lovino off the floor and onto his shaky legs.

Where had Antonio been at this time of night? He fiddled with the garments on his bed. Lovino would have heard the front doors bang even through his scattered musings so he had not been outside. He would not have been upstairs either because that was his Grandfather's realm and there was no need of the Spaniard up there. The kitchen seemed unlikely too; it was a little late for food.

It left only one place: the basement with Elizabeta. Lovino dropped the shirt he was holding and held onto the bedpost as his vision blurred.

_Selfish, selfish!_ How could he not have considered her before? Of course, Eliza would have been worried about her husband's absence, enough maybe to talk to Antonio. The pair didn't converse much but in his short stay in their home, Antonio had become close to them all. The maid wouldn't have wanted to worry Feliciano and Ludwig and would have only spoken to Antonio if she was seriously worried and needed a friendly face. It was too late now to keep Antonio from his bed though; she must have sent him away. Eliza was a strong woman and needed to appear so to those around her. She knew that Roderich would turn up soon.

But not in the way she expected. Lovino's guilt rose in a wave at the thought of his friend, his pregnant and loving friend who he had seen grow into a woman to be respected, and what her reaction would be to the news. And it had been him that had destroyed her happiness with an unforgivable action.

Her husband was never coming home and their child would never know his father.

He would never see his child.

Lovino's foot nudged against something that clattered and sloshed. He looked down dazed to meet the sight of the brightly coloured, ribboned box his Grandfather had given him at the party. The bottle now sat alone in the box, an empty space beside it where the gun had rested. The memory of the gun, so recently in his hand and killing his friend, a friend he had promised to protect whose wife was downstairs waiting for a man who would never return-

He forced his hand into the box without a second thought, pulling out the bottle by the neck and all but ripping off the cap with his bare hands. The first swig was like fire, spreading out under his skin, but the second brought the numbing sensation he had prayed for. If he could not forget by will then he would forget by force.

He settled onto the floor, and drank.

oOo

Lovino retched into the toilet bowl, cursing his God damned luck.

He had planned on drinking himself into oblivion and sleeping off the evening, but his empty stomach seemed to have other plans for him. With only a small brunch in him since breakfast his body had rejected everything he poured into it, leaving him crouched and shaking in the dark before the toilet and praying for his day to end. He'd made it halfway into the bottle or more before that though, meaning enough drink had effected his system: just not as much as he would have liked. Lovino's groan was echoed back at him from the bowl as he spat out a wad of sour tasting spit; a mixture of vomit and the harsh burn of alcohol. He churned at the thought and he promptly emptied a little more of his stomach into the bowl. _Shit._

A sudden tap at the door broke through his moment of self pity. "Lovino, is that you?"

The familiar sound of his bodyguard's voice, muffled through the wood of the door was enough to make him swear again at his shitty luck. Of all the people to hear him now-

"Go'way." Lovino grumbled, his stomach protesting violently at the word which forced past his clenched teeth. He retched pitifully as the door opened and the bodyguard entered the room. There was little time for him to be embarrassed at the situation as Antonio's hand was on his back in an instant, cold against his heat. He snapped it back almost immediately with a hiss.

"You're soaking wet!" He muttered with concern, returning his hand slowly as if he was afraid Lovino would break. Lovino shuddered and kept his face in the bowl, his stomach not quite steady enough to raise his spinning head. "Lovino, why are you wearing wet clothes?!"

"It was raining, bastard." He slurred. His voice slipped over the words like he was dragging himself through mud. He didn't feel hot, or cold, he just felt sick and numb. _Go away, go away, go away-_

"Like hell I would leave you like this." Antonio tutted in dismay. Lovino must have been drunker than he thought because he was sure he hadn't spoken that aloud. His grumbling and confusion prompted the question: "Have you been drinking?"

Lovino didn't like the tone the other man was using on him. There was no need for Antonio to be overly critical; he would get drunk when he felt like it. Damn, he would get drunk every day if he wanted to, he was a grown man for fucks sake.

"What d'you fucking think?" Lovino said, or at least he tried to, his words were cut short by another dry heave. Nothing came out and Lovino pulled his head from the bowl only to be captured by Antonio's eyes which looked at him through the dark. The Spaniard hadn't turned on the light when he had entered the room and it was still dark. Only the glow of a street light outside lit the room, and it was enough to highlight the other man's handsome features which were marred in concern. Lovino huffed and flicked the man's hand off him irritably.

"Why would you do that?" Antonio demanded. The bodyguard might have forced him to face him if Lovino had not slumped back over the toilet with a groan. The rim of the seat had been cool against his head but he forced his arms to hold up his face so he could at least appear sober. Besides, if he pressed his hands into his face hard enough he would suffocate and it would put an end to this stupid conversation.

Antonio didn't seem to have the same idea. He didn't touch him again but he shifted closer on the floor. "Lovino, what happened earlier? I booked the two tickets but you weren't here when I got back. Eliza said that Roderich never home from his errand-"

Lovino could not help the strangled laugh that escaped from his lips. He knew he shouldn't but the absurdity of the situation was just too much for his confused mind. Antonio still thought he was a good guy on their side! A likely chance. Antonio stared at his response, wordlessly watching as Lovino pushed himself away from the toilet. He attempted to stand but his head was too heavy for his body and he tottered on his heels. Antonio only intervened when Lovino teetered dangerously; placing steady hands on him and helping him to lean back against the side of the tub. The change in place made the light shine on Lovino straight in the face and he winced even though it was not bright. The bathtub dripped and his stomach gurgled but the rest was silence as Antonio got a good look at him. His face was in shadow but his intake of breath was like a knife to the heart.

"Please don't," Lovino whispered, his eyes closing slightly but Antonio grabbed his hand and held it tight, shaking it to demand attention.

"There's blood on your shirt." Ah, so it had not been removed by the rain. A part of him had thought it might have been, it had been fresh when he had stood outside anyway. Antonio's voice was panicked as he patted down Lovino's front checking for injuries. "Oh my God. Are you hurt? What did he do with you?!"

"It's not mine." Lovino's stomach churned with emotion rather than the alcohol. Every sense in him told him to close his mouth, keep it shut, no one was to know- but he couldn't stop the words that tumbled out of his mouth. "M'not hurt."

Antonio visibly froze and moved back on his feet so that the golden light caught on his shocked expression. "But-"

Lovino swallowed, his voice hushed and painful. This throat felt like it was caught in a vice what with throwing up, the acid burning against the inside. There was an expectant pause.

"I've done something horrible." Lovino mumbled and then the night came crashing down on him. Everything he had done, everything he had felt burst and he gritted his teeth against the sudden onslaught of tears that fell from his eyes. He clutched Antonio's hands which he grasped between his own like they were lifelines. The bodyguard was silent and watchful, stunned perhaps into silence as he watched his charge helplessly.

"I don't understand," Antonio said softly. He shook his head faintly. "Lovino, you're drunk and you're not making much sense. Come on let's get you to bed."

"You don't understand?" Lovino grew suddenly frustrated with his bodyguard. _Why_ couldn't he understand? If he had blood on him and it wasn't his own, then where the hell did the idiot think it had come from? Did he think he was crying for show?!

"I understand that you need to get out of those wet clothes and sleep this off." Antonio said patiently, he stood up and heaved Lovino up onto his feet. The sudden change in stance made him dizzy and he grabbed onto Antonio and then a second later flung him off.

"Don't touch me." He spat, but his legs were like jelly and he couldn't remain upright on his own. He felt like he was in one of the fairground rides he had been on as a child with Feliciano, he had thrown up then too. Antonio wordlessly flushed the toilet to remove the sorry evidence of the night, keeping one had on Lovino as he did so. Then with his arm over the Spaniard's shoulders Lovino was walked to the door. His socked feet slipped on the tiles and he stumbled out into the corridor, even with Antonio's help he had to reach out a hand to find the wall just to stop it bloody moving.

They entered the room and Lovino was deposited on the bed. He swayed as Antonio left the room, only to return a blink later with an armful of clothes Lovino recognised as his own. He left the lights off, perhaps a good thing for Lovino's head, but there was enough light to see from the same lamp outside which had lit the bathroom. The light was much brighter than he was used to. It was this which confused Lovino; he looked around at the room, blearily making out unfamiliar furniture in an unfamiliar layout.

"This isn't my room." He commented. Antonio chuckled as he seated himself beside him on the bed causing the mattress to dip under his weight.

"You weren't going to make it to your room." And it was true. Lovino could already feel his eyes closing with tiredness and drink. _Oh well, a bed is a bed._

But the need to explain what had happened remained with him; he felt his consciousness couldn't rest until he had revealed everything. He could to Antonio, because the man had been part of the plan to save a person who was no longer with them. He sniffed.

"Why are you crying?" Antonio said softly. He hadn't realised he was until he mentioned it and he tried to take a deep breath but only ended up letting out a short moan. "Lovino, you're scaring me. What on earth has happened?"

"I've done something horrible." He murmured.

"You said that already. What did you mean?" Antonio asked. There was a curiosity in his voice as he looked at Lovino in concern. "Where have you been all this time? We were meant to meet-"

He left off from his sentence as Lovino sobbed anew and put his head in his hands. He didn't mean to cry like a big pansy but the guilt was crushing and his head was spinning and he just wanted it all to _stop_. The hand that reached out to touch his back was tentative but Lovino still found himself flinching under the weight of it; it was too friendly and nice when he didn't deserve any of that.

"Lovi..." Antonio said and then deciding against whatever he was going to say, shook his head. "Come on, you'll catch your death in these clothes. Let's get you changed."

The bodyguard shifted them both so that he was sat right in front of his charge on the bed with his feet up. There was focus in his eyes as he pushed Lovino's hands aside to unbutton his shirt with steady hands. Lovino froze at the contact, his head still full of alcohol and addled with a mixture of emotions that made his reason clouded. He couldn't stop himself from staring at the man before him because when he did his mind felt empty. Before Lovino knew what he was doing he had leant forward and pressed his lips on Antonio's.

It wasn't quite the response he had anticipated. He had thought with everything the bodyguard had said he would at least be reciprocated. It was what he wanted because another sin would surely cancel out his other, and he needed the human contact right now. Something to wash away his thoughts and leave him emptier than the alcohol had. What he had therefore not expected was for Antonio to shove him off and back away from him. Even drunk, Lovino was insulted.

"You are totally out of it." Antonio said, forcing a wary chuckle past his lips. "Good lord, how much did you have to drink? It tastes like the whole bottle."

"I want t'forget." Lovino admitted quietly, the slow sting of rejection settling in now along with his other feelings. The accumulation weighed down on him like an anchor and he could feel himself sinking into its depths. Antonio tensed at his words. "I just want it to have never happened."

"Want what to have never happened?" Antonio said in a harsh whisper, still frozen at the other end of the bed. A pause. "Lovino, what did you do?"

He took a deep and shuddering breath, the words tumbling out after. "Roderich. Roderich's dead."

The other man stared at his as if he had just grown two heads. He was already shaking his head in disbelief before the words had even left his mouth. "No, he can't be."

"He is. I-" He couldn't form those words and he let the silence and the blood on his clothes speak for themselves. Antonio continued to shake his head in disbelief, but around his eyes worry was beginning to form. The disbelief in his bodyguard's eyes was enough to irritate him. He failed to see what was so difficult to understand about the situation. He was a murdering sinner. A bastard. A coward of a man who killed for profit and he did not deserve to be looked at in the way Antonio was staring at him with those large, handsome eyes of his.

_Ah damn it_, he was definitely more drunk than he thought. His mind was all over the place, one minute on Roderich and the next on how good looking his stupid bodyguard was. _Sleep, he needed sleep._

"Look, you need to leave, I want to sleep." He slurred and with loose and shaking hands he began to finish the process of unbuttoning his own shirt. His fumbling fingers made little headway into the slippery devils and Antonio took pity on him and finished them for him, baring his clammy skin to the cool air of the room. With a grunt Lovino threw the discarded object in his face.

"But this is my room." Antonio argued. Of course it was. Lovino blinked in confusion before snatching the offered pyjama top out of his hands and contented himself with putting it on to hide his embarrassment.

"Yeah, well this is my house, Spaniard." He returned. The words that fell out his mouth were utter garbage now; he could already feel himself slipping off to sleep now he had sort of told someone about what he had done. His drunken mind argued that if Antonio had not believed him or understood it was his own problem. He was an idiot. "I'll sleep wherever I please."

Antonio watched him struggle with his top, trying repeatedly to get his head through the arm holes before taking pity on him and adjusting it to he could put it on right. He shoved the man away once that was done so he could change into his bottoms on his own. Antonio moved to sit by his desk, watching silently as his charge tucked himself shakily into the bed. Lovino lay still, his head still spinning and his stomach churning, feeling ill and sorry for himself. Minutes passed and then-

"Was it you?" Antonio asked suddenly in the dark. His tone was light, or an attempt at it. "Were you the one to do it?"

Lovino did not need to ask what he meant. He shivered even though the bedding around him was warm, comfortable and smelt nice. He could feel the drink shutting his body down to sleep already and he sighed, his throat protesting slightly at the action._ Had it been him?_ His memory was a little hazy, but the gun had been in his hand and he knew he could have stopped it, if he had really wanted to. He had not done enough to save his friend and now he was dead.

"Yes." He replied softly because if anyone deserved the blame, it was him for allowing it to happen when he had promised to save him. Antonio did not reply and silence won out, dragging Lovino into a dreamless sleep.

oOo

Waking up, Lovino found himself rising from sleep like he was clawing himself free from a sink pool, his limbs felt weighed down and heavy like they had soaked up the grimy measure of a swamp. His breath certainly smelt like he had been guzzling at one in any case. He woke up to a blinding light that cracked open his head, even though a covering of duvet blocked out most of the glare he still found himself wincing and groaning in pain. His head felt like sponge, his mouth dry and painful where the skin had cracked and bled around his chapped lips, and his throat and eyes ached. It was a horrible mixture of a hangover and a flu making him feel like death itself. He shivered and tried to piece together the fragments of his memory that started to seep through the tiredness, wondering what it was that had awoken him when he should have been dead to the world about now.

The answer came clearly in the wail from somewhere in the apartment. It sounded very close. It made him sit upright and alert, even though the movement made him sway and his head flash with a blinding pain at the sudden change in light. When his eyes had adjusted he realised he was in an unfamiliar room, but one he had seen in passing: Antonio's. The man in question was stood at the door, looking out onto the corridor outside with a dejected slope to his shoulders that signified something bad was going on.

The wail sounded again and Lovino did not need informing as to what the 'something bad' was.

Antonio finally turned to face him when he had stumbled out of bed and had nearly ended up falling onto the floor. Luckily the bodyguard's room was a lot smaller than his own and the desk where he had made a messy pile of his belongings took most of the fall. Lovino barely even noticed the sound of objects hitting the floor; his head was spinning too much for him to even process it. It was as if someone had left a drum inside his head to pound away on the inside, even his eyes felt heavy and sore. It was definitely no normal hangover, he felt like death barely warmed up. He couldn't help but cough weakly into his hand.

"No, no, back in the bed." Antonio seemed to be trying to be stern but there was a sense of urgency to his tone that scared Lovino. "You're not well. Everything is fine; you need to lay down-"

But the sobbing started up again and Lovino found a level enough head to push past his bodyguard and stumble like a baby learning to walk as he made his way to the doorway. Antonio didn't stop him, the determination Lovino felt must have shown in his eyes, but he was not far behind him as he walked. Luckily the walk itself was not far, because once out on the corridor he realised the sound was coming from Feliciano's bedroom. He shakily walked towards it.

Lovino caught a brief impression of his brother's room which had not changed since his last visit. The curtains were open, letting in the clear, early morning light which burned his eyes in comparison to Antonio's room which had the blinds closed. He winced and blinked against it. What met him was typical early morning scene of a bed in disarray and clothes from the night before on the floor, all except for the centre of the room which drew his attention immediately.

Elizabeta was crying, not small sobs but fully developed wails that shook her body. With one hand she covered her face and with the other she held securely onto the bump of her stomach as she sat on the divan at the foot of Feliciano's bed. Feliciano himself was sat beside her, clutching her shoulders as if to keep her rooted to the spot. His mouth was a thin line and his face pale and stained with tears from crying. Neither of them looked at Lovino as he stumbled into the doorway.

Eliza seemed to be trying to form some sort of sounds over her own tears but she only succeeded in breaking down even more. The sight of her small and shaking, with tears running uncontrollably down the side of her face was enough to make Lovino want crawl back to bed but he held his ground, clutching the door handle to stop himself from teetering into the room. He felt particularly unsteady on his legs and he did not trust himself to stand alone.

"I cannot tell you how distressed and _sorry_ I am to have to tell you this news Elizabeta, my dear," came his Grandfather's voice somewhere behind the door. The older man was stood at an angle where the wood shielded him from Lovino's gaze but a shuffle on his part brought his towering figure to light. His suit was a pale grey today with a paler trim. Lovino wasn't quite sure why that bothered him but he should have been wearing black. _Black for the widow._

Eliza could not respond to his Grandfather's words, encumbered with emotion as she was. Feliciano spoke for her, his hands tight on her shoulders.

"Will you get the people who did this, Grandpa?" There was a threat of violence in his tongue that dripped off him like venom. The sound of it made the sour taste in Lovino's mouth grow and his vision swayed briefly. It wasn't a tone he wanted to hear from Feli, not ever. Antonio's hands found his elbows to steady him even though he hadn't realised he was tipping over.

"Come on," the bodyguard whispered urgently in his ear while attempting to steer him away but Lovino needed to hear this out. He had to see the consequences to his actions, if he ran away now, it only added to his sins. Eliza needed family around her, he'd be damned if he walked away back to his bed to sleep. He pushed the other man off and stepped through the door. The action finally caught someone's attention to his presence; Feliciano's face creased up in pain at the sight of him.

"Oh Lovi, it's horrible. Roderich's been found dead." He sniffled at the information. If he had not been comforting Eliza, Lovino was sure his brother would have darted to his side but he remained seated with the maid. "He was shot and just _left there_. Grandpa thinks it was the Russians trying to fix their loss for when they didn't get me."

Feliciano's lip quivered with guilt and he swallowed as Eliza wept beside him.

"The only other option is the police, and they would not have left a corpse out to rot." His Grandfather said tactlessly. Elizabeta tried to speak again but choked on her own words as another cry escaped her lips and no comforting from Feliciano seemed to do the trick. Ludwig, who had been stood with Viktor at Roma's side looking pale and shocked, hurried forward to help. He passed her a handkerchief with a hand that shook more than she did, his lips parted in worry.

Roma on the other hand barely registered the effects his words had on Eliza, and instead turned to his eldest grandson with a sigh of remorse so false it was like fake chrome plating chipping off to reveal the brown metal beneath. The emotion beneath was slimy and toad-like: triumph. Things were going his way after all, and if that was at the cost of his maid's happiness then he was willing to sacrifice it. Lovino felt sick just looking at him and the pride in his eyes as he cast his gaze over him, as he stood shaking in his pyjamas.

"Of course the police are still a problem for the family, one that needs dealing with." Roma continued. "But for now we need to strike back at the Russians for taking such a valuable member of ours away. Roderich will sorely be missed by us all."

The lies stung worse than Eliza's tears because Lovino was fully aware of them. To the others his Grandfather would seem sincere and caring; in reality he was covering up and blaming a murder on someone else for his own gain. Lovino's mouth felt dry and he struggled to swallow-

"I want to help!" Feliciano declared suddenly. There was fury in his eyes as he jumped to his feet, leaving Ludwig to comfort their maid. If his throat had not already been constricting, Lovino would have screamed aloud._ No, no, not Feli, please_. "I want to get back at the people who did this to Roderich! He was my friend!"

Roma chuckled fondly as he ruffled the younger boy's hair. "All in due time Feliciano; you boys can do it together. I'm sure your brother would be happy to go through the ropes with you."

The glance he sent in Lovino's direction might as well have been a punch. He struggled to focus. He wanted to refuse but he found his head nodding shakily in agreement. Lovino could not openly disagree, not when he felt like vomiting on the floor or breaking down in front of them all. Any refusal would encourage an argument he could not win without revealing the truth of Roderich's death. If anything, he just wanted to walk from the room but he was held to the spot by the situation. No one but Antonio seemed to notice his countenance, and they carried on with their conversation as normal.

"Where was he found, Sir?" Ludwig asked quietly as if to not affect the woman by his side.

"Near the docks. I have a containment unit out there and the boys were making a run for me when they found him." His Grandfather explained. He skipped over the part when the same boys had brought Roderich from the basement of said warehouse to be killed-

His vision blurred slightly and his head continued to beat like a drum. The memory of the cold, dark room confused him and for a second Lovino was sure he saw a flash of a dark figure in the corner of the room. When he looked again though it was gone, a trick of the light. His hands shook.

"Please, Sir." The maid somehow managed to sob, her words painfully distorted through tears. The hand that clutched at her stomach was almost claw like, in fact the fingers protruded like talons around the lump which jittered and shook to be free.

A blink and it was gone.

"Please- the baby-"

"We'll look after you both, don't worry, Eliza. We owe it to Roderich, don't we Grandpa?" Feliciano's voice came to Lovino as if through a tunnel, and to his eyes the younger boys face shifted form like paint beginning to run. Trickles of skin hues melted across his brother's cheeks while the brown of his eyes leaked out of the sockets and dripped to mix with the pink of his lips. Lovino wanted to scream but his throat has seized up in panic. His breath became quick and painful in his chest. His head thumped in time with his heart which pumped erratically in his chest. Somewhere in the distance music began to play. He blinked rapidly to rid himself of the frightful scene, three and it was gone although Lovino was certain he could still see a steady drip on his brother's cheeks.

"That's right, Eliza dear." Roma purred, his soft smile stretching his face further than a human's should have. Lovino took a step back as a mist like substance seemed to fill the room and cloud his vision further. He could barely take a breath as the bedroom took on a hazy quality and the sounds of his family's chatter faded away to be replaced by music which rang out with a tinny quality. There was rain too, the ceiling replaced by grey clouds which darkened with every passing second even though the skies outside were clear. Echoes of raindrops pattered to the floor like the sounds of tiny, running feet directed right at him in a burst of noise. A wave of heat seared over him with the drops, picking at his skin like teeth. He rubbed his arms to get them off but to little effect: they gnawed and gripped his skin painfully. He wheezed, eyes wide as he backed up further until he stumbled into something cool.

No one seemed to notice the new figure that stood in the corner of the room, who stood still and silent despite the ghostly rain. A cool drop of sweat ran down the length of his back and he shivered at the hand that ghosted over his own.

_It was impossible, no- no..._

Antonio whispered something in his ear and Roma carried on telling Eliza something but the dead eyes were the only things Lovino was aware of. He was frozen to the spot by the sunken gaze that looked at him from a waxen and bloody face. A steady drip filled the room and Eliza's tears only added to the moisture which was collecting in the air. How couldn't the others see this- he was standing right there-

His legs buckled and Antonio caught him, holding him upright. In one quick movement he had removed Lovino from the room and into the corridor where he half carried, half dragged him over into another room. His own bedroom, he recognised dimly. The window was still open and the room was cold, disused and empty. He was placed on the bed. The rain stopped.

"Breathe, breathe." Antonio demanded and Lovino looked up into his face and tried to do as he bid. The haze still clouded his vision and for half a second he saw only blood and pale eyes through warped glasses before it cleared and the bodyguard's green ones looked down at him in worry. Noting his flinch, Antonio placed his hand on Lovino's forehead as his charge shook in front of him. The hand was cold against his skin and he couldn't help but close his eyes and rest against it with a pained whimper.

"You're burning up." Antonio hissed, his tone wavering with concern. He placed both hands on his shoulders to keep Lovino upright and steady. "How long were you out in the rain for? Look at me, Lovino, please."

Even though the Spaniard's face could have only been inches from his own he found it difficult to focus on his features with the pounding in his head and the shadowy presence in the room that would not leave him. _He would not leave him alone.__ He would never leave him alone._

"I'm sorry," Lovino rasped and even to his own ears his voice sounded strained. Everything from his head to his stomach ached but the words forced themselves out with feeling. He needed to hear this. "I'm so sorry."

"What did you say?" Antonio whispered, shaking Lovino's shoulder slightly as he moved to kneel in front of him, scanning his face anxiously. The movement allowed Lovino a better view of his cold room and the man watching him with his head leaning to one side, the blood running off his pasty cheeks and onto the white work clothes he wore. Red dripped onto the tiles.

"I'm sorry," He repeated, but not for his bodyguard's sake. The music jumped and faltered as Roderich stared at him, one eye bloodshot and glassy, the other mutilated beyond recognition. His face had been literally blown apart. The image of his dead friend was scoured into his eyelids and sealed into his memory. The blood ran, red and warm onto the floor; it dripped onto the tiles and pooled on the floor. A splatter of heat flecked against his neck. Lovino's strength wavered and he found himself drooping his head, his forehead finding the crook of Antonio's shoulder and his weak hands the front of his shirt which he held onto like a lifeline. The Spaniard's skin was cool and eased the pain a little, but not enough.

"You don't need to apologise." _But it wasn't for him, couldn't he see?_ Lovino's breathing sounded erratic and wheezy even to his own ears but he was much more concerned with the rising music which made his head spin and his stomach flip over. He closed his eyes tightly but all he could see was red. _Blood, blood everywhere._ Antonio's hand found the back of his neck, his fingers cold enough to make Lovino shiver.

"I don't like this temperature of yours." Antonio said with worry.

He would have spoken in response but a sudden cough rose in Lovino's throat. It racked his body with its violent shakes and with every breath his headache got worse until he found himself tottering forward. Antonio yelped and caught him as he sagged to the floor like a sack of potatoes, leaning him up against the side of his bed.

The bodyguard was saying something urgently to him but he was beyond listening to it, his eyes fixed on the form behind him. Roderich was waiting patiently for him, staring unblinkingly at him with no emotion on his face. He had no words to speak. _If he did, he wouldn't plead, he was already dead. But he had pleaded, he had screamed for mercy and Lovino had done nothing. _Blood dripped from him, more frequent and thickly now. It had splashed across his clothes and across his pale face, sticking to the line of his hair and congealing. The smell of iron stuck in his throat and Lovino coughed again to rid himself of it. But it stuck like cotton at the back of his mouth, filling up the space which air needed to get to his lungs. One, two, three went the drips- it was hypnotic. He couldn't breathe.

"Lovino, talk to me please-" Antonio said frantically. He was faintly aware of a hand on his wrist, hurriedly searching for a pulse. Lovino looked back at his bodyguard with tired and tear-filled eyes.

"I don't feel well." He swallowed, once, before his senses were finally overwhelmed and the room fuzzed out around him; the distorted and ruined face chasing him into his nightmares.

oOo

**I struggled with this one a lot so feedback would be greatly appreciated!**

**I'd say more but I'm super tired right now :') hope you enjoyed the update!**


	33. I See the Sea

**Once again, sorry this took so long guys! I had trouble writing the ending and had to redraft the whole scene in the end and then my beta had exams. But I'm finished with my second year at uni now! Hopefully there should be more updates for the summer :)**

**Hope everyone is well and thank you so much for all the reviews and watches/favourites last chapter. Means so much and it's great to know people are still reading this thing!**

**Disclaimer- Hetalia is not mine**

**oOo**

When Mathias had visited the house of Roma Vargas for the first time, he had been no more than a dirty, washed out young man with big dreams and a willing fist to beat them out from the world.

Mathias had been floating ghost-like around the city he grew up in for almost a year, his shame eating away at him as he tried to rid himself of his face and his name. He had almost managed it too, if he had not have been as broke as a dog. If he'd had the cash he would have headed out of town, gone some place across state where no one would ever be able to find him again. But he didn't have that sort of money and what savings Mathias had left he spent on working on the disappearing part the best way he could think of.

Bar after bar, every dollar he owned pissed up a wall. No one notices a drunk on the streets, even the police. His life before the prohibition had been drinking and getting wasted mainly just to pass the time and forget. Yet, that lifestyle was draining and he grew wary of it. He drank down the pints like the poison it was, hating every drop of the alcohol that stained his insides. The night when Heracles had picked him up of the bar floor and handed him a piece of card with an address on, it had seemed almost too good to be true.

The cramped address on the back of a cigarette case had been an offering from a heaven he no longer believed in. When he had licked his wounds after the last bout of drunken pub brawls, he dragged himself like a lame dog to the address the stranger with note from an angel had told him he would find work.

_Work._

But who would want to employ a pathetic drunk like him? Mr Vargas, he soon found out, was not a picky man. Quite the opposite, he was more than happy to accept him into the folds of the family. He had almost been pleased to hear about Mathias' past because men like him did not overly care what happened to them. As soon as Mathias had seen his new boss he had known exactly what he was getting into. He was not an idiot and he had more than enough experience to pick out organised crime where he saw it. And Roma ran the city. He probably should have ran for the hills, returned to his sad little life, but he had joined the group anyway.

He could still remember their first conversation.

"Here is the deal." Back in those days Roma's accent had been a lot stronger, the Italian varnish had not yet been corroded by the harsh American around him. His voice had been almost like music when he had spoken to Mathias in his office.

Looking back, he remembered the meeting most of all because he had thought it was very unprofessional of the boss to have his grandkids sat in the room while he talked about business with a total stranger. Feliciano had been about ten then and was happily cutting out the shapes of people in chains and spreading them across the corner of the room he and his brother had occupied, giggling all the while. At the time, Lovino had been growing into a slim looking teen, gawky with youth but with the promise of one day filling out his larger frame. Mathias remembered feeling put off by the dark eyes that glanced up from the book they were reading to watch the exchange before them. Not because Lovino's eyes held any hint of malice, but because they were anxious.

_What need did the child have to be so anxious?_

"I am offering you a position to work for me. No more living off the streets or the dregs of society, you can have everything you want and more. A home, a woman, hey even a man if it pleases you I'm not picky." It had all sounded so promising, but he wasn't sure- "If it bothers you, you can have my word that we don't mess with children or women. It's not our way. Honestly, I'm not fond of disposing of people besides those who mess me around. This is a family business and I won't play dirty unless I have to, but we're trying to make money here and some ties just have to be cut along the way."

Matthias remembered how Roma had motioned at the boys but it was Lovino who heeded the call and hurried over to receive the affection pat to the cheek and kiss on the head. Roma's eyes had been like a cat's as they turned back onto Mathias to purr. "You seem like a smart boy, it's your choice of course."

Mathias had known what to expect from the beginning. Right from that smug grin of Roma's across the desk as he had realised that he couldn't say no, up to the soft eyes of the eldest grandchild as they had silently viewed him with growing dislike. But he had thought, what the hell. He was broke. He needed the cash. He needed to disappear and in the family he would just be one of many under one name. He was trained to drop his own morals in any case. _Almost perfect._

Still, it was not often that a general dogsbody like Mathias was invited directly into the boss's home. His position involved him doing as he was told by his superiors, not dealing with the big shots. In the past few years he had managed to wheedle himself closer to the boss but even then he would never be as close as someone like Heracles or Viktor who came practically hand and hand with the family. Mathias always made an effort to enjoy his visits into the lofty rooms and the prettily tiled floors that let his feet tap out crisp beats, the same ones that had mystified him on his first visit through their grandeur and size.

It was always nice to see that his work was benefiting someone else beyond the meagre meals Mathias' money brought to his own table.

Yet his current visit was not as enjoyable as his last had been. It was not cheerful or pleasant, even the sparkle of the tiles seemed dulled by the mood pervading the house. There was no distant chatting of the youngest grandson, no warm food sizzling away in the kitchen. The entrance hall was cold and the place was all but silent.

The only good point was that this time, with Lukas at his side, there were no drinks for the other man to guzzle and embarrass them both.

It was this small favour that kept him walking though the entrance hall and towards the staircase as if nothing felt wrong about the place. He had let himself in, as he had been directed to over the phone, but Mathias still found it horribly different. In such a grand home there should have been someone to admit them into the residence, there usually was. Then again that person was dead and who knew where the other house workers were. There was certainly no one in sight as he took in the empty hall filled with nothing but the cold morning light from above and the sound of demanding lamentations from behind the closed kitchen door.

_His wife must have been tol__d then_. Mathias found that the whole experience, the crying, the empty hall and the otherwise silent house, gave the impression of a hospital. It was too clinical, cold and white. Mathias couldn't help but shiver even though the morning was warm.

There should have been noise somewhere else. Even someone else crying would have been a sign of life but there was nothing. Usually the boys could be heard chattering, and no movements could go unnoticed for long in a house built entirely with tiled and wooden floors. Sound carried, but not today. Silence.

By his side, Lukas seemed unfazed by the house's atmosphere and merely looked around with a curious eye at the building he had never before been allowed to step foot in except for the party. Mathias was not sure if he would even be allowed in the office but right now he was not keen on leaving the other man alone if he could avoid it. His talk in the car had scared him so bad that Mathias had all but bullied the other man into staying at home all night while he had gone off to deal with the family snitch. Lukas had not been pleased to stay out of the loop, he had been so keen to get stuck in with it all: too keen. Mathias didn't need to have to worry about his safety when he had his own to worry about because in those situations one wrong move and you would be nailed to the floor next to the target and kissing bullets just the same.

Of course Mathias had still told him everything that had happened to Roderich. Partly because he knew he would get it out of him eventually anyway, and partly because he had wanted to gauge his reaction. An abnormal reaction to the news would mean that Mathias' worst fears were confirmed and Lukas was the real snitch. He didn't want to believe it but all his thoughts seemed to point in that direction. But Lukas had been as distant as ever to the news and had just shrugged when Mathias had told him what they had done with Roderich after he had crawled back to the apartment dirty, tired and in need of some sleep.

Either he was a good actor or he was really not concerned with the whole affair, and only mad that he had not been allowed to participate.

_The sounds from the kitchen were really starting to get to him._

"Come on," Mathias hurried the other man. He was eager to be in the office and away. He didn't want to stay in a house that felt like the cold underside of the hospital wards, where the frigid air of the morgue crept with intent. He pulled Lukas up the stairs.

He was just past the second floor landing when a sudden change in the intensity of crying forced him to glance down through the banister to find its cause. Mathias immediately wished he hadn't. It was Scipio, the thin pastor from the church that they were trying to bully into buying wine for the communion. He had emerged from the kitchen with a sombre swish of black cloak as he left the door behind him ajar. The robe dragged along the floor heavily in an ominous manner which it never usually held in the comfortable recesses of the church halls.

As if he felt Mathias' gaze on his head, Scipio looked up to meet his eyes. Mathias always felt cocky and self-assured before the other man, but this time he found himself almost knocked back by the strength of the fury in the other man's pale eyes. Even from a floor below, he could feel the dislike radiating off him in waves. It was not the usual silent sense of hatred that he had given him when they had spoken in church, that was in a way the powerless display of a man at a loss; but this, this was something more than that. Mathias knew that the pastor understood everything, whether it was the circumstances of the death or just a guess, Scipio knew. The look he shot him told him as such and more. There was contempt in his glance. Like an avenging angel delivering judgement on little men, Scipio's gaze promised retribution for his actions.

Mathias was not a God fearing man, he flat out did not believe in any of that stuff anymore. But he was always intimidated in the face of such belief. It was incorruptible and that scared him. He grabbed Lukas' shoulder and pulled him forward out of the line of Scipio's glare.

"Let's see the boss and get out of this place." He urged to the dawdling man. Lukas had been staring up at the glass window in the roof and had not noticed the pastor below, so followed after him obediently. Mathias did not want him to see the pastor, he had no idea if Lukas would recall the man that buried his brother but he did not fancy risking it.

A quick look back down the rest of the staircase as they reached the top floor showed a black cloak flicking out of sight onto the second floor corridor where Mathias knew the boys' bedrooms were. He could not help but breathe a sigh of relief. The hard faced pastor was not invited to Roma's meeting then.

Speaking of which-

"What's the meeting about?" Lukas asked quietly. Mathias was surprised at his interest and even more by his choice to start a conversation in the first place. He wasn't one to speak unless spoken to these days. "I thought you lot had dealt with the butler thing?"

"So did I. Who knows what this is about?" Mathias wasn't wholly certain whether Lukas dull tones held any hint of malice or not but he replied anyway with an added shrug.

Together they stepped onto the darkened corridor which was lit only by a single lamp and the struggling light from the rooftop window. The small hallway was not vast but it had a tendency to echo sound and Mathias found the thumping of his own feet repeated back to him. A little louder than this was the murmur of voices from behind the closed office door at the end of the hall. Mathias' gut tightened slightly in the same way it always did when he had been called to see the boss. It was the same feeling he had got as a child when he had been sent to see his teacher for fighting once again in the play ground, although in that case the most he would have got was a quick smack and he would be on his way.

This was a lot more dangerous. A summoning to the house in particular could only mean only one of two things: a really important job, or something had gone really wrong and people needed to pay.

There was no way it could be the latter option. The whole affair with Roderich, while being unpleasant, had been a total success. The snitch was dead and they could go on with their business as normal from now on, with him gone they were no longer in hot water. Mathias was not proud to admit what he had taken part in but he had done his job and now they were safe. So what if murder left a sour taste in his mouth? What threatened the family threatened him. He had a job to do, and if anything Mathias was practical. He had been taught to use a gun; he might as well use it. If it got the police off their tail then all the better; he did not fancy getting arrested any day soon. He would not allow it. Mathias had better reasons than many for keeping himself away from those bastards and if one guy was going to try to mess it up for the rest of them, then he was all for doing away with him.

There was just one thing that rubbed him up the wrong way about the whole ordeal and that was that was the way Roderich had acted. The guy had been beaten up so much that Mathias' own hands were hurting from hitting him, yet the butler had refused to admit to some parts of their accusations. It was certainly odd. Roderich had nothing to gain from only spilling the truth in parts and he had definitely been quick enough to admit the rest of his actions.

_No_, last night did not sit easy with Mathias. They were missing something and that was dangerous.

But he pushed it out of his mind and focused on the present. A quick knock at the office door allowed them entry into the room. Unusually the room was poorly lit, the other times Mathias had paid Roma a visit the room has been uncomfortably bright. But this time the curtains had been drawn and the lamps subdued leaving them almost in darkness. There were dark corners of the room which fuelled his unease but the man at the desk in the centre of the room was relaxed. Roma's smile was as polished and as smooth as ever in the half light and it only grew as Mathias and Lukas entered the room.

"Ah, at last boys. Welcome, please take a seat." He waved his hand to two chairs in front of his desk which had been placed right beside the other occupant of the room. Sadiq looked odd without the company of Heracles by his side and insults dripping off his tongue, in fact he seemed almost bored as he leaned back in his seat and watched Mathias take his own. In a way it was almost comforting. Sadiq was closer to Roma's circle that Mathias and in turn was more trusted by the older man. He was safe as long as he was only a lackie because if the boss had a bone to pick he wouldn't pick it with the plebians.

"So," Roma began as Lukas finally settled awkwardly into the large leather seat. The boss' large, powerful hands were relaxed on the arms of his chair as he lounged with one foot up on his desk. Behind him was the ever present Viktor who was in the most carefree position Mathias had ever seen him in, he was seemingly content enough to lean against the window and look through a small gap in the blinds rather than stand soldier like by his charge's side.

"I've called you here to discuss what we will be doing next. With our rat gone our problem still lies with the Russians, but I believe we need to rid ourselves of the police before we can do any of that. They will be hindrances otherwise and I don't want them worrying at my heels while I get my revenge for what they have done to my business and my Grandsons."

Mathias should have known this conversation would involve discussing their actions for the problem of the police. Red tape and bureaucracy made it hard for officers to actually arrest them but it was easy to bypass if they had enough leads to go on. Slip ups were bound to happen if the family ran blindly into things without first considering the police and what they knew. They had been surprisingly quick already which was never a good sign. In that way, Mathias was pleased to work at any plan that would lead them off their trail.

Roma waved his hand in Sadiq's general direction. "Heracles and Sadiq were sent a few days back to talk to the officer in charge of the case. Our friends in the forces declined our offer of a pay off and now I am left with a big problem on my hands. What can you tell us about the men, Sadiq?"

_What idiot would refuse an offer like that?_ Mathias thought in annoyance. He looked to Sadiq to listen intently to the description of the officers.

"The team is a small one for a case like this one. Four men and one gal." The dark man drawled to the room in general after he had shifted himself in his seat so that he was more comfortable. With one finger he twirled his hat nonchalantly through the air. "Main inspector is Arthur Kirkland, plain sorta guy but feisty as hell. British, you know. Even alone with just me and Herc for company he still had the balls to laugh in our faces and refuse the offer, right after we'd dropped in some nice threats too, just like you told us to. He doesn't seem like a man to be scared of anything. The others follow him about like soldiers, pretty mindless but they'll be happy to do anything for the guy."

Roma stood up easily. For a man of his age it was an incredible feet but even in his old age he had kept the robust and strong body of a man in his forties.

"But if you remove the head of the snake, the rest will follow." Roma mused as he stalked out from behind the desk and began to wander the room. Everyone's eyes followed his movements patiently. "Tell me more about this Inspector, Sadiq. I know you had some of your lads looking out for him."

"That I did." He replied proudly, with a little puff out of his chest. "Found out from a little bit sneaking that it turns out that this high and mighty Inspector lives in a flat above a shop with three kids and two other guys. One of the guys that is living with him is a worker on the case, and too friendly to be just an employee so we were thinking a relative of some sort? They do look alike, so probably a brother. The other man is a nobody, but the kids are his and the Inspector's."

The look that Roma sent him was sharp and curious as if he didn't quite understand the implication behind those words. Sadiq shrugged.

"Make of that what you will. But from what we could gather, which wasn't much, is that the eldest child and the youngest are Kirkland's. The middle kid was calling the other man 'dad' but there must be some relation keeping them all cooped up in the one house. Perhaps something to do with the kids' mother?"

Roma's wanderings edged past Mathias' chair and he had to hold himself back from tensing up automatically. He was more than aware of what that cruel body could do. It was instinctive to be wary after he had seen the older man break the bones of someone he had trusted for so long like they were twigs under his feet. Lukas however lacked the discipline of Mathias and flinched as Roma walked slowly past him as if he was expecting to be hit. Mathias did not turn his head, but out of the corner of his eye he saw the boss place a calming hand on Lukas' shoulder, his golden eyes focused on some shadowy point at the corner of the room.

"Tell me, Sadiq." Roma said while his hand remained on Lukas' shoulder, his long fingers working at the muscle. A flicker of discomfort passed on the features of the other man, but Lukas' eye remained cool and distant. "What age are these boys?"

"Couldn't say for sure, boss. The younger two are still old enough for school." If he was confused with the odd question, Sadiq did not show it and reported his information clearly. "The other one isn't, he spends his time working in the shop. I'd say the eldest might be little Lovino's age, the youngest a good deal younger than that. He can't be over twelve; but then again I'm no judge."

Mathias was not certain what a small detail such as the age of the children had anything to do with stopping the police enquiries. Surely they should be focusing on the men on the case? But Roma only hummed lightly at Sadiq's words, and then had released his hold Lukas. One second he was standing amongst his men and the next minute he was throwing himself back down at his desk to tap his fingers erratically in thought. Viktor watched his master from the window, no longer at ease. He did not speak; his mouth was a thin line of worry.

The silence that ensued was too much for Mathias. He did not like the sudden dark change that had overcome Roma, because anything that put him in a bad mood was certain to affect all of them.

"Boss?" He asked quietly. Roma couldn't have been mad for no reason, but then again it would not have been uncommon for him to have an uncontrollable outburst, it was best for Mathias to play it safe. And with good reason. The eyes that met his own at his words were sharp and dagger like. Roma did not answer him, instead he slapped down his hands on the desks surface and addressed Sadiq who jumped and dropped his hat at the suddenness of it.

"This store." He snapped, waving his hands through the air. There was a hypothetical undercurrent to his words. "How is it guarded?"

Sadiq's laugh made Mathias cringe because _no one_ laughed at Roma Vargas. It wasn't something a sane mad would do.

"You thinking of robbing the joint, Boss?"

"Yes, I am." Roma's reply was cold and Mathias was not surprised to see Sadiq's cocky smirk slip off under the ice. The glare he shot at him was deadly. With his hard features and bright eyes, the boss could have made even a God lower his gaze; Sadiq was only a man, and a low one at that.

"Simple padlocks and bolts on the front and back door." He didn't sound as cheerful as he had done but the dark man answered the boss's questions without further comment, clipping off his response like a soldier. "Latches on the window. Nothing upmarket in the place to protect, the place is pretty much a waste of a good burglar's time. Nothing of value goods wise, even the equipment they use in the store is out of date."

"It is not goods I am thinking of." Roma dismissed, and that lit up Sadiq's eyes if nothing else did. Mathias on the other hand felt confused. "Floors?"

Why would he say he wanted to rob the place if he knew there was nothing to take? And a simple robbery probably wouldn't push this Kirkland man off the trail. He had already taken the Hotel, he wasn't messing around. _What was the boss trying to do he__re?_

"Two floors." Sadiq said. "Perhaps an attic but the roof looks too small to fit any rooms up there. Most likely a basement for storage. Shop on the ground floor and the rooms on the next."

"Five people live in this hovel?" Roma spat with disgust as though the idea of that many people under one small roof repulsed him. It was not surprising to see why, with the opulence that surrounded the man in the apartment and all its servant throughout three floors, it was not surprising that he turned up his nose. Hell, the desk he was sat out with its dark, carved scenes of plant life most likely cost more than Mathias' rent per week. Roma waved his hand suddenly as if he realised he suddenly didn't care.

"Tell me the daily habits of these people." He mused darkly. His tone was doing nothing for Mathias' nerves, and Lukas seemed pale too from what he could see of him from the corner of his eye. "From start to finish, leave nothing out."

Sadiq seemed overwhelmed at the task as he clearly struggled to remember.

"The inspector and his 'brother' leave first." He said slowly, sitting up straighter in his seat. "Pretty early most days, the police station isn't far but they get breakfast out to avoid waking up the others I think, they often drive to a local café for coffee and bagels. Then the two youngest go to school just as the other man and the eldest open up the shop."

"And then?"

"The boys come home from school around 4. The shop's open twelve while about 6, but they stay open a little later to tidy around and lock up. I'd say the Inspector doesn't come back while going on 8 or 9 most nights but I have seen him come home later, almost midnight in some cases."

Roma did not seem pleased with this information.

"This other man, this stranger." He demanded, his movements quite agitated now, almost like a lion pacing in a cage. Mathias leaned back slowly in his chair so he was out of the way. "Does he never leave the house or the shop? Surely he must go _somewhere_..."

"Well of course," Sadiq said with a slight shake of the head. "We weren't really watching him though, boss. You told us to watch the house-"

"I know what I said!" The boss snapped in response and silence fell over the room, only broken by the heavy sigh from the older man as he clutched at his head as if warding off a headache. After a moment he spoke again, his voice much softer and controlled, but clearly with difficulty.

"How long is he out for?" He said, seating himself in his chair once again. He spoke as if he was addressing a group of children rather than a group of men. "Roughly."

Sadiq barely hesitated in his answer, but he did stutter slightly over his words. "H-he seems to leave once the shop is sorted and the boys are all indoors and settled for the evening. He never goes anywhere when the Inspector's at home and his trips are always in the evening when he's still at work. But he's always back before Kirkland."

"And the boys are alone at this time?" Mathias suddenly realised he did not need Roma to explain why he needed this information, and it neither seemed that the other men in the room. Everyone, even Viktor, seemed to be watching the older man with a new kind of horror. Was he really suggesting-?

"Boss, are you telling us to get these kids?" Sadiq was not a nice man, Mathias had seen enough of him on and off through the years and more than he normally would enjoy over the past week or so to know that he enjoyed his job. Unlike Mathias who did it for the money, who made an effort to seem eager and on the boss' good side, Sadiq relished every blow he got to inflict, every nasty word. But right now even he looked wary as if expecting this to be some sort of test.

Mathias hoped it was because the alternative was not a nice one.

His mind was drawn back to his first ever meeting with Roma. He had _pr__omised_-

"That is precisely what I want you to do." Roma said. He threw a sharp hand in Lukas direction, the pale boy flinching in his seat with his eyes wide and ghostlike at the address. "You: go down onto the floor below and fetch my Grandson. Lovino's room is on the left. Tell him I want to talk with him about another job."

Lukas sat deathly still for a moment and Mathias internally groaned, thinking he had frozen in fear but the next he had stood up and albeit bolted from the room. As he left, Mathias caught his gaze and tried to send a mental message of 'behave!', but there was no way of telling whether his cool eyes had even registered the action. As the door swung shut behind his back Roma snorted.

"Where did you get that one from, Mathias?" There was a hint of a tease about the words as he laughed slightly to himself. "He seems a little jumpy for this sort of work. It's not good for business."

"That's Lukas." Mathias found himself saying. "It was his brother who died the other day on the job, don't you remember, Sir?"

His tone had been insolent but Roma's shrug was nonchalant and uncaring as if he hadn't noticed.

"People die most days, Mathias." He dismissed easily with a casual wave that made Mathias' stomach boil. "I cannot be expected to remember them all. My condolences though, were they close?"

"Very."

"Pity, at such a young age." When he spoken to him on the phone about Emil, Roma had not seemed too concerned but now Mathias could see his face as he spoke. There was no sympathy, no consideration. It was as if the death of a young man in the world, on his orders, meant nothing to him as long as he was not a problem for the business. It made Mathias angry. Angry enough that he had to clutch the arms of his chair to prevent himself from launching himself at the man before him right under the watchful, cold eyes of his silent bodyguard. Viktor did not move as such, but he was visibly watching him now and Mathias made a big effort to calm down. He breathed heavily through his nose and tried to rationalise his thoughts.

It was hard. Emil had been a good man and to have his death brushed off as nothing-

Luckily Sadiq did not seem concerned either, meaning he was happy to swerve the conversation back onto the previous topic.

"Why the kids, boss?"

"Why not?" Roma argued with a small smile, very reasonably as if he was discussing a game. It was as if Sadiq was commenting on his move on a chess board and Roma was explaining his choice. "He has declared himself a threat to my family; therefore I will be a threat to his. He will not stand in my way any longer; I will not allow it in my city."

"But why not just kill the man?" Sadiq's words were the same ones Mathias was asking himself. Children had been an area to be protected and not touched directly, the same as women. Roma extorted a lot of money from widows but that could be easily brushed under the carpet as deals struck with their husbands that they themselves were paying off. An all out kidnapping and worse-? No, that was not in his job description.

Sneaking butlers were one thing, but the child of the target was another.

But Roma had his reasoning at least. "I cannot kill an officer of the law. They are already onto us as it is and I do not want a bigger task force on my tail when I already have the Russians snapping at my heels." He was poetical when he wanted to be, but still-_ this was wrong_-

"Besides, this is personal. He is attacking me, and I warned him not to. I want you to take one of his boys, not all of them. I am considerate. Perhaps knock around the others, nothing sends a message better than a beating, but just keep one in a safe house somewhere for me until the Inspector drops his case or I get fed up of waiting for him to stop."

Mathias opened his mouth, probably to say something that would have gotten _him_ killed, but at that moment the door behind them opened and Lukas stepped in awkwardly like he didn't want to be noticed. He could see why straight away. Behind him was not Lovino, but rather the perky bodyguard he had plucked up off the streets. Or perhaps not so perky after all. Antonio's face was strained as if he was in some sort of physical pain and his eyes were worried and red. Not a good sign, especially the lack of his charge and the way his hands were bunched tightly behind his back.

Roma's seat scrapped back across the floor as the unexpected guest walked determinedly into the office behind Lukas who has slid to the side and out of his way. The boss seemed torn between anger and confusion. Viktor looked surprised, his pale eyebrows rising on his forehead as he too got to his feet.

"Antonio?" Roma demanded. "Where is Lovino?"

When Antonio spoke it was if he was trying to talk around a lump in his throat. "Lovino is ill."

There was an ominous pause.

"What? What are you talking about you stupid boy?!" Roma rounded the table like a hound rushing its prey but Antonio did not even blink at the sudden movement and merely stared the older man in the eye without fear. They were almost the same height but the older man was still taller as he squared up to the Spaniard. "If this is some scheme to get out of-"

"It is no scheme." Antonio's tone was icy to say the least, his green eyes narrowed in silent fury. Mathias marvelled at how even his voice was when he was clearly trying to hold back some sort of emotion that was straining like a horse to be free of its reigns. "He was not well last night, or this morning. He collapsed-"

"Impossible." Roma cut across him, clearly furious. "Vargas men do not get ill. Tell him to get up here right now and stop sending his man to cover for him-"

"This man is telling the truth." Mathias did not need to see Lukas stiffen up by the door to know whose voice had suddenly joined their little meeting. Scipio pushed his way into the room to stand beside Antonio with a sour face as he places a thin white hand comfortingly on the bodyguard's shoulder. "Feliciano is with him now and I've seen him myself. Lovino has been put to bed with a fever and is highly delirious. He cannot be moved, but I _do_ suggest you call for a doctor immediately. He needs medical attention."

There was a long silence. The words had a physical impact on the boss, and he took a step back from Antonio and the pastor with a shaky step. The colour, which had been rising in anger on his features, suddenly turned cold as the blood drained from his face. He looked between Antonio's solid gaze and the pastor's disapproving quirk of his lips as if unsure what to do. He didn't quite seem to know how to react and it was shocking to see, so much so that Mathias and Sadiq turned their eyes way from the sight. Mathias focused instead on Lukas who was still stood awkwardly at the side of the room, watching the drama unfold.

He didn't seem too concerned by what was going on but the way he was looking at Roma was slightly disconcerting. Mathias would never have dared to look at him like he was now, especially in such a situation. There was almost joy in his eyes as he watched the man before him crumple and weaken at the thought of his grandchild being sick.

Luckily, Roma did not notice.

"I want to see him." The boss muttered, and then spoke louder with more force. He pointed a finger in Antonio's direction with menace. "If you're lying to me-"

"I'm not." Came the unwavering response. All of the time they had been stood there Antonio was minutely fidgeting; it was in the shift of his weight and in the tenseness of his jaw. He clearly did not want to be here. Behind the will of iron there was worry pooling behind his eyes at the idea of his charge downstairs sick in bed. Mathias hadn't thought they were that close, they never seemed it, but this was real concern, not the bottled and pressed crap that Viktor gave to Roma every day.

Roma seemed to finally realise the gravity of the situation and turned to leave before sharply looking back into the room to look at Mathias and Sadiq.

"Carry out the task as planned. Take advantage of any time that other man leaves." He ordered briskly as Antonio, Scipio and Viktor silently slid out of the room to head downstairs. Roma's eyes were dangerously dark and jittery as he spoke. "I want one of those boys captured and the police silenced. Excuse me."

He rushed from the room and was thundering down the stairs until he was out of earshot. There was no need to check if they had understood his plan, nor was there any need to dismiss them. They could see when they were no longer welcome. In fact, Mathias was sure that if Roma found any of them still in his office when he returned they would end up in dead in a dumpster.

Sadiq whistled as he picked his hat up from the floor to dust. The sound of his hand slapping against the material was louder than it should have been in the dark room. "Well shit, hope the kid's okay. Be terrible if anything happened to him, but I think he might have not been ready for last night."

Mathias caught the other man's eye and tensed.

He might have been an underling by position, but his thoughts were far superior than most. He was not stupid or dull. He could see what others could not, and what he saw scared him.

A world in which the heir to the family business and fortune died before his time was not a safe one, especially when Roma had not spent time training up his other grandchild to take up a position of any kind. He would probably die before Feliciano could learn everything his brother had been fed since they were brought over to this god forsaken country. The whole business would then fly into turmoil, because who would take the reins? Looking across the room Mathias could see the sort of member that would try. Roma might have been a strong man, resolute and defiant even in his old age, but the boss' weakness was his kids and their uses to him. Sadiq, with his slow easy grin, would exploit that without a doubt. He was a snake in the grass and Mathias felt a sense of growing dislike.

He did not enjoy what he did. He did not like having to do what he was told to do. But it was all he had left of his tattered life. Even with everything he had done over the past few years, stuff that Mathias had tried to wash away with more and more drink, what he had now was everything. For all his problems, Mathias liked Roma because he was safe; Sadiq was a danger to himself and this family would burn with him at the helm

No, he did not want anything to happen to Lovino...

But they were not welcome there and he had other things to be worried about, namely Lukas and his strange staring that he hoped meant nothing at all.

"We better get out of here before the boss realises we're not working on his plan immediately."

oOo

Lovino was drifting.

He did not know how long he had been like this but he was swimming against a tide of sleep, one that was pulling him ever closer to the shore with each heave and tug. It was timeless and quiet here and he liked it more than the world of wakefulness. He struggled against the push of the sea weakly because right now he did not want to open his eyes. _No thanks_. He was content to drift soundlessly and undisturbed forever because he knew the moment he woke up things would change again.

Some small primal part of him was afraid. Shadow-like figures and broken faces would be there when he awoke and they would be watching him- perhaps.

So he struggled in vain to swim back to the deeper waters even though he could already feel the sand at his back. He scrabbled to return to the calm of the ocean, where there was no tears or pain.

But it was futile. No matter how he struggled with a final sigh the gentle waves had deposited him onto the sand and he opened his eyes to the silence of his bedroom.

His eyesight was a little blurry at first and his eyes stuck together with sleep. He could feel he was propped up on his bed with a mountain of pillows behind him and swathes of blankets keeping him warm. The part of his room that he could see was dimly lit. It took him a while to realise that the curtains, which were always open except at night, were drawn loosely over the side with the sun, throwing the room into a sense of half light like the sky before rain.

He blinked, and his senses returned to him in a trickle as his vision cleared up. He felt woozy, but not sickly. Lovino knew he wouldn't be able to muster the strength to sit up even if he tried, his limbs felt heavy and weighted as if he really had been in the sea. He blinked and his vision returned somewhat more as he drew a slow, testing breath. His throat was a little sore and dry but it didn't seem completely blocked like it had been.

He could vaguely recall choking, like hands were holding him by the neck and refusing to let go-

"Hey there, soldier." Came a soft voice out of his line of sight. It was painful to turn to look in its direction, it made his head ache and his vision sway briefly but when he did, Lovino found himself looking at Antonio.

He was seated in a chair by the desk doing something with his hands, but upon seeing Lovino move the bodyguard set this down, stood up and moved to sit on the bed bedside him. The whole mattress dipped with the added weight but the way Antonio took his hand in his own was gentle. In fact his every action was gentle, right from the way he leaned forward to check Lovino's temperature to the way his forehead creased in concern as he looked down at his pale face.

Catching sight of his familiar features brought everything back to Lovino in a dark wave. Roderich, the drinking, everything from that morning. It did not overwhelm him as he thought it would, he was still too tired for that, but he was aware of a waist deep tide that threatened to pull him under at any minute.

Lovino opened his mouth to speak but it felt like someone had shoved a blender down his gullet and he coughed against the pain. Instantly there was a glass of water in his hand and a palm at the back of his head so that he could take a sip without choking. The cool liquid eased his pain enough that he could rasp out the words he had intended.

"How long?" Was all that he could manage before he had to sink back into his recline.

"Don't strain yourself, go back to sleep." Antonio hushed. _That_ was not the answer he was looking for and Lovino pulled a sour expression to show it which made the other man sigh and roll his eyes. "Three days."

Lovino couldn't help but groan, only to cough again. _Three days_? That was bad news, worse than bad, terrible. Three days of his life gone and most of all forgotten. What had happened in those days? He had really chosen the worse time ever to fall ill.

"Tell me." He ordered, knowing that Antonio would know what it was he was asking of him. The bodyguard sighed again and leaned back, one hand still holding onto his own which he did not have the energy to flick off.

"You passed out. The doctor had to be called out to see you; you were delirious with a fever." Antonio seemed shook up by the memory of it. _He must have been really bad_. "I was so worried, and so were the others, it was just so sudden. I didn't think- well anyway the doc labelled it down to stress and overexertion."

That sounded about right, but it was not what he wanted to hear. He was curious about himself but he ranked low on a scale of everything when other people were concerned. What had happened in the rest of the house while he had been out?

It seemed Antonio was getting around to that part, although reluctantly.

"Not much has happened since you've been out." He said it evenly but his expression was pained. Not much meant nothing major, but necessarily good. Antonio's thumb rubbed gently across Lovino's knuckles, which was comforting enough to stop him from panicking. "Your grandfather's lackies have been in the house more, discussing something with Roma in his office for hours. Elizabeta has locked herself in her room and only comes out to prepare food for the meals, although Ludwig and I have been trying to help her since Heracles is 'too busy'. Feliciano-"

Antonio stalled on his brother's name, his eyebrows creased with worry. Even in his tired state Lovino could not help but feel his stomach drop. What could possibly be wrong with his little brother? It was bad enough Eliza was still inconsolable but at least he knew she was safe, Feliciano on the other hand...

"What's wrong with Feliciano?" He pried, struggling to sit up and pay attention but his body wasn't cooperating well with his commands. It only took a small shove on his bodyguard's part to force him back into the pillows with a tut.

"He's fine, don't worry. It's just-" Antonio was not the sort of man to keep anything secret, not something so important anyway but he seemed to want to avoid telling him something which just made him want to know even more. Lovino tugged on his hand, which was still within his own, and stared wide eyed as Antonio bit his lip and continued.

"It's just you were talking. In your sleep." Antonio was looking him in the eye, as if to check his response. Lovino was suddenly finding it hard to breathe again, and he most certainly did not need Antonio to clarify: "You said things about Roderich..."

If he had thought the news about his brother hit him hard, this new dilemma hit him like a tonne of bricks. He knew he could not have stopped it if he had tried, but Lovino knew that talking in his sleep about anything was a bad move. The state his mind had been in before he had collapsed too was not good. Not good at all. The thing he must have said while delirious and sick, with Roderich's ghostly tattered face looking at him from the shadows, were damaging enough, but it front of the wrong people? He almost baulked to ask:

"How much did I say?"

"Enough."

Antonio had opened his mouth to respond but the voice that spoke up was not his own. Once again, Lovino had to turn his head painfully to look around for the source and almost immediately wished he hadn't. Feliciano was stood in the doorway, dressed casually and silently watching the pair with his eyes dark. Lovino did not know how long he had been there or that his brother could even move quietly enough to not be noticed by them, but there he was and his expression was blank but bordering on something else.

"Why didn't you tell me he was awake?" He demanded to Antonio who had stood up quickly and dropped Lovino's hand as if burned. Lovino did not like the tone of his brother's voice as he spoke to the bodyguard like that, but Antonio did not seem to notice it and replied good naturedly.

"I was just making sure he was well enough to see people before he had the whole house stomping around his room. He still needs to rest."

Feliciano folded his arms across his chest slowly. "That was not a call for you to make-"

"With all due respect, I think it is." Antonio stepped forward a little defensively so that all Lovino could see was the dark cut of the back of his suit. He was still smiling though, the curve of it framing his words. "He is my charge and his well-being will always come first. I don't want him to be upset right now, Feliciano. Your brother has been very sick, and he needs to rest to get better."

"He is my brother and I will decide that." Feliciano argued with a hint of a childlike whine to the back of his throat. He had never mastered the art of quarrelling a point without using such a tone of voice; it came from being babied for his whole life. He was so used to getting his own way; Feliciano had no strength in an argument. Still, Lovino could sense the intention in his words and it made him try to sit up again even though his limbs felt like jelly. "Go downstairs and fetch him some food-"

Antonio attempted to assist him even though Lovino shook him off weakly. "I don't think-"

"No, you don't." Feliciano snapped. Both Antonio and Lovino froze as Feliciano stormed into the room to stand in front of Antonio who did not flinch under his gaze. On the contrary, it was Feliciano who seemed upset. His hands were shaking with the effort and his eyes watering slightly as he had to look up at the other man. "You are not paid to think but to _do_. This is my house, my brother and you will do as I say Mr Carriedo or I will have Ludwig pack up your suitcase and throw you out onto the street. Do you understand?"

If Lovino hadn't been bedridden or Feli so far away for his arm to reach he would have slapped his little shit of a brother on the side of the head for speaking to Antonio like that. But as it was he was still finding it difficult to sit up and was making a slow and painful progress of it. He half hoped Antonio would sock him one for him. Feliciano seemed to realise the danger too, there was no Ludwig at his side for protection after all and one punch from the older man would send his small body sprawling, but Antonio only chuckled.

"Yes, yes. Of course, Sir." He said evenly. Feliciano's lips were quivering dangerously as he stared up at him as Antonio smiled down good naturedly. "I'll try to talk Eliza into making some of her soup. I may be a while. There is water on the side, please try to sip some more Lovino and remember to take some medicine: Feliciano you know how much he needs."

He must have been trying to guilt trip Feliciano with kindness because it was working, the younger boy practically wilted under his gaze and yet a hardness remained in the tense lines of his body which Lovino did not like. Antonio smiled once more in their direction, edged around Feliciano and his crossed arms to leave by the doorway. His eyes caught Lovino's a moment before the wood blocked them and they seemed a lot more concerned than he had shown when speaking. The door closed and Antonio's footsteps receded down the corridor and off to the stairs.

A pause.

"Lovi-" Feliciano began pathetically but Lovino cut across him.

"Don't you ever speak to anyone in this house like that again." He rasped painfully. Lovino had just woken up, he was sore and tired and sick. He did not need to deal with his brother's attitude just because he was upset. He understood why he would be but Lovino was not pleased with him taking it out on others when it should have been directed at him. "I mean it Feliciano. He not just a bodyguard, he's a person too and a good one at that. You were brought up with manners so fucking use some."

His speech was still laboured but he was slowly finding it easier to get his words out. The stress of the situation was getting to him. Lovino hated feeling tense and anxious: just how much did Feli know?

Feliciano did not seem impressed with the scolding as his lower lip waggled. Despite knowing his older brother was angry with him, he still continued on.

His voice was nearing a whisper when he spoke up, arms crossed: "He's a meat shield."

If Lovino had the strength he would have throw one of his pillows at his brother's head. Instead he could only bite back.

"He is my fucking friend, so watch your mouth. It's the same thing for you and Ludwig, so don't try to deny it's any different. I don't like the guy but I would never speak to him like you just spoke to Antonio, it was downright insolent. He's as much a part of the family as you or I am."

Feliciano was choosing the worst time to be petulant like a child. Lovino could not help but become frustrated at the sight of him standing there defiantly, not raising the issue he had obviously entered the room for.

"What about Roderich then?" Or maybe not. Feliciano snapped the words, frustration evident in his voice as well as the tears clogging his eyes. Lovino's heart dropped even further into his stomach. "What was he?"

Lovino did not answer immediately but settled back into his pillows as he watched Feliciano struggle with his emotions. There was anger and grief but perhaps a hint of confusion. His eyes were questioning, almost pleading Lovino for an answer which he felt he could not give. It was like there something blocking his throat and he understood it was because he did not want Feliciano to know about Roderich, even if he had already heard something to make him see what had gone on. He could not speak those damaging words to his little brother. He just couldn't.

"Roderich was a good man too. The best-"

"If he was so good, then why is he dead? Don't turn your head away, if you won't tell me what happened then I'll ask Grandpa." Feliciano threatened, striding closer to the bed. Lovino had never envisioned that he would be having a conversation like this with his brother while sick and he wasn't sure what to do with the reality facing him. He wished he'd never woken up, not to this. "You were talking in your sleep Lovi, apologising! If Elizabeta had heard any of it-"

"Ask Grandpa then!" Lovino threw his words like a swing of a fist. He didn't like to think what he had been saying or who had heard it, but some part of him was happy that Eliza remained oblivious to the truth. Still, he was growing angry with his brother's tone. If he was going to hate him, the least he could do was not drag out the reveal. "What would he do but tell you the truth, if that's what you want to know? And I think you already know what happened, so why are you asking me this?"

"I want to know WHY!" Feliciano did not usually shout but his voice was raised to a painful level as a few stray tears leaked from his eyes. His round face was growing very red and the thin muscles of his neck were strained.

Lovino tutted even though his heart was beating painfully in his chest. "He was the snitch and Grandpa-"

"Not that!" His brother shook his head rapidly, his voice angry enough to make Lovino stop in his tracks. _If it wasn't the cause then-?_ "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you let me help?"

There was silence between the brothers as Lovino stared at his teary eyed sibling in confusion.

"I don't understand..."

Feliciano's face was crumpling up with tears but he managed to form a few words around his wobbling lips. "You didn't want to kill Roderich-"

"Of course not!" Lovino rushed, too quickly. He coughed painfully for a moment until the water was once again placed in his hand. When his eyes cleared, Feliciano was still crying as he placed a tentative hand on his brother's forehead.

"It wasn't a question." He hushed, running his cool fingers through his clammy scalp. The action was friendly and familiar and very different from the shouting moments before. "I can tell because I know you. And if talking in your sleep wasn't a big enough give away then Antonio has been acting weird since you fell ill. It didn't take long to figure out that you'd known about Roderich before killing him."

"At first when I figured it out Lovi, I was mad." Feliciano continued with a hint of apology in his tone. Lovino for once, allowed his brother to speak and it fell out of him in a rush. "I couldn't understand how you could have done such a horrid thing like that to him; I mean Roderich was our friend. We played together as kids and he taught us music and was always there for us. But to kill him like that? It was horrible to even consider it. And the fact that you'd hidden it all away, stood and lied in front of Eliza- it was unforgivable-"

Lovino's eyes were filling up with tears because his every nightmare of the evening before he was ill was coming back to him. He had thought right: Feliciano would be repulsed by his actions. He was seeing him for the dirt he really was. He did not let the tears fall because he did not deserve to show weakness but they clouded his eyes.

"Feli-" He gulped to try, somehow, to correct his actions but his brother cut across him.

"I'm not done yet." He said. Feliciano shook his head and tenderly placed his smaller hand in Lovino's own, entwining the fingers like he had when they were children. "Because when I heard you speaking in your sleep I knew that what had happened was not your fault." -_wasn't it? After all he had not stopped it_- "And that given the chance you would not have done it. The way Antonio looked guilty too, the effort he was making with Eliza suggested you both knew about Roderich's snitching and were trying to help him. What I couldn't understand is why through everything, you kept this all from me. We're a family and brothers and I'm meant to help you, don't you trust me?"

Lovino closed his eyes against the building tears. He was meant to be the older brother and right now he felt like a little kid being scolded, and unable to defend himself. He did deserve it after all.

"I do but you wouldn't understand, Feli." He rasped out, eyes still closed. He couldn't stand to see the disappointment in his brother's gaze because it was eating him away. Lovino wished he could fall asleep and never wake up again, that way he would not have to deal with all of this. He had expected it but it was worse than he could have thought being confronted by the brother he had always tried to keep innocent. Lovino's world was crumbling around him as he knew it would and it hurt to see it fall and be carried away in the tide.

But Feliciano clutched his hand closely, pulling it to his lips to press an innocent and chaste kiss to his knuckles. It was what made Lovino open his eyes to look into his brother's own.

"Then help me to understand." He urged, shuffling closer. _How did he not even hate him?_ There was confusion and innocence in his brother's eyes; could he really tarnish that with the truth?

"Lovi, please-"

Wordlessly, Lovino motioned for his brother to come closer and get into the bed with him. Feliciano blinked his teary eyes in surprise, probably because Lovino never invited him willingly to hug him but he overcame his shock quickly and crawled in. Lovino had been right to think there was not enough room for them both, but it was nice to hold his brother close even though he could not help but think it was the last time. He did not want to talk about this, or anything to do with the family, but the anxiety of his brother and the pounding of his head was forcing him over the edge. Sooner or later he would have to face the reality staring him in the face that made tears spring to his eyes.

Feliciano was no longer a child, and one way or another he would join the family and be involved in his Grandfather's business. No matter how much Lovino was repulsed by the idea, it was unstoppable and drawing ever closer. He could not stop it.

The least he could do therefore was _talk_ to his brother about it.

"I never wanted this life." He admitted. Feliciano was so close he was practically whispering the words into his ear as the younger boy clung to him. "Not for myself, and definitely not for you."

"But it's the family business." Feliciano was not arguing, merely pointing out a fact with a questioning tone as if he couldn't understand where Lovino was coming from. The eldest sighed and thought about what else to say.

Feliciano filled the silence with an odd question. "_Fratello_, do you sometimes think of Marcello?"

"No." Lovino replied honestly. He was much more concerned with the living than the dead; it was horrible how his brother had died but Lovino was content to believe that his death had been sudden and painless. Marcello was the least of his worries when Feliciano was right here in his arms.

"I do," Feliciano admitted. Neither of them were looking at each other, which was fine by Lovino, and his brother's tone was faraway. "I wonder what he would have looked like if he'd had the chance to grow up like us, whether he would have liked music or art. I like to think he would have liked sports, because one of us had to. He would have been my own little brother to look after, and then I try to understand how it would have felt to be an older brother rather than just a younger one. I try and try to see things from your point of view Lovi, and why you would try and keep me out of all the business. I see what you're doing but I struggle to figure out why sometimes. I wish I'd got the chance to meet Marcello, I wish he hadn't died."

Lovino was struck by the admittance. He was unable to stop his mind wandering at Feliciano's words, struck with the sudden image of Marcello. He would have probably been lighter like Feliciano, but then again he could have been darker. It was definitely a shame they had never got to really meet each other. Lovino remembered his other sibling distantly as a squirming bundle of cloths he had not liked for its smell and loud noises. He had been a child but he could not help but feel a surge of guilt as he considered properly for the first time the brother he had lost.

They had so much taken away from them at such a young age. Their life ever since had been a muted chaos of misunderstandings and violence; he could not pinpoint when they had ever been truly happy under their Grandfather's roof. Lovino knew he had done his best for Feliciano as a brother, but the weight of the death of his parents and younger sibling was something he could never fill: in his heart and Feliciano's.

They were damaged. This whole conversation was wrong. Lovino should not have been talking to Feliciano about murder and betrayal. They should have been sat with Marcello back in Italy, perhaps him taunting the youngest about a girl in the village school or sorting out a new scheme to get them into trouble with their parents. Feliciano had been thinking of a life they had never had and had tried to see how things could have been, whereas Lovino had only thought of the now and had forgotten the past.

He hid a sob in Feliciano's hair as he clutched him closer. He had to bring himself back to the present.

"I have to protect you, Feli." He mumbled into his hair, hoping he was explaining himself clearly. "That's what older brother's do. If I let you lose yourself in the business I would never forgive myself. It's dangerous and it's wrong. Roderich is dead because of the family; he wasn't the first and he won't be the last either."

"So you're saying you don't want the job?" Feliciano had swallowed so much of their Grandfather's thoughts as a kid that he seemed confused by the idea of going against him. Perhaps it would take a little more pushing on Lovino's part to get through such a barrier.

"I'm saying I don't want you to take the job." Because he was willing to sacrifice himself at the cost of his brother's innocence, and even if it had all been in vain then he could at least try to get through to him. "You are better than this house. You are better than me. You should use those talents of yours and get out of this place while you can. Go to college, get a job, marry a nice lady and settle down with kids. Get a place in the country away from this stinking, corrupted city. There is nothing here."

Feliciano's breath hitched as his fingers held tighter onto his brother's shirt. "You're here, you wouldn't be there."

"I don't matter-"

"Yes you fucking do!" Feliciano, as a rule, did not swear. Vulgar language was always on the tips of Lovino's lips but never on the younger boy's. Feliciano moved back so he could look into his brother's face, giving Lovino no time to hide the tears that had fallen from his eyes but it hardly mattered, Feliciano's face was just as wet.

"You matter to me." He spat forcefully, although it lacked any venom. "You have always mattered to me. The business is not keeping me here, _idiota_, you are! I know I could go to college but you and the family come before all of that. You're my brother, and I'm not going anywhere when I can see you struggling like you are. It's killing you. If you don't want the job let me have it, if I can't have it then fine- let me at least help you deal with this mess! Why do you have to do it on your own?"

Feliciano stopped before his voice could raise any higher in pitch, breathing heavily and trying to hold in fresh tears. He sagged against Lovino's chest with his arms around him, a gesture which he returned numbly as he tried to process what Feliciano had just said.

"I don't totally understand your reasoning." He admitted quietly as Lovino wordlessly patted him on the back, feeling a little dazed and increasingly tired. "I don't think I will, but I _see_ Lovi. I see how the business upsets you; I see how _Nonno_ treats you. I cannot ignore how he treats me. I believe in the family, but I believe in you more. If you said so, I would let it burn or crumble or fall because you're all I have left. We're brothers, we need to stick together. Let me help you, please."

"How?" Lovino asked because there was nothing else to say in the matter. He had underestimated Feliciano, he had thought he was blind to the business but he was not at all. He was a perceptive little shit, that Lovino knew, but not as blinded by innocence as he had originally believed.

His brother was practically offering him everything; even though the fact remained he had killed Roderich. It was a difficult concept to grasp. He should have hated him. He should have disowned him, not clutched to his chest like a child with so much _understanding_ it made Lovino's head pound.

"Let me help you with things" Feliciano said into his shoulder. His face was wet but he had calmed down a lot since he had entered. "Promise me that if you need my help you will ask for it." A pause "You're still quite warm."

It took Lovino a moment to recognise the comment and regard it. The talk had taken over his thoughts but now he actually realised how drained and sick he still felt. His head ached and his throat was sore as he swallowed against it, the coolness of his brother's body against his own was actually quite nice and he could feel his eyes closing despite the need for them to stay open. _When had he become so tired?_

"Because I'm still sick, dumbass." He reminded him in a tired grumble. Forget perceptive, talk about oblivious. "It's just because _someone_ couldn't wait to talk to me about serious stuff."

Feliciano giggled nervously and hugged him closer, planting a small kiss on his fevered neck that cooled the area it touched. "I'm sorry. Will you promise?"

"To what?" Lovino could already feel himself slipping back into sleep.

"You'll let me help you!"

Lovino sighed and closed his eyes. He knew that to agree to having his brother involved in his life like this would perhaps be a step in the wrong direction, but it would also be easier on his mind to not have to constantly worry about hiding everything from him. It had become so draining over these past few years and the promise of perhaps letting this one thing be right was too tempting an opportunity to pass up on. He knew that at some point he would have to face what he had done to Roderich in Feliciano's eyes, but for now he was forgiven until all this mess was sorted out. However long that would take to manage.

"Yes." The word that fell out of his mouth was reluctant but honest. He knew that he needed the help, he needed his brother, and as his eyes closed one final time, that he needed to sleep this crappy flu off.

He could deal with his demons when he awoke, for now he was content to rest with his brother held safely in his arms.

oOo

**I feel bad I killed of Seborga before the story even began, I think I would have had a lot of fun writing for the three of them :')**

**Please review :) until next time people!**


	34. White Feathers

**Once again loyal reader, I am not dead. Life has been a pain this summer. I'm gonna try to keep going with the updates: I do not plan on leaving this story until it is finished.**

**To everyone that has just joined me, welcome. To everyone who has been patiently waiting: thank you for sticking with me.**

**Disclaimer- hetalia does not belong to me**

oOo

Gilbert lounged heavily in his armchair, his legs crossed and stretched out before him. After a hard day's work he often spent his evenings relaxing in such a manner, the comforting feeling of a newspaper in his hands and the ashy burn of cigarette smoke on his lips as it curled its way down into his lungs. Today though, he found himself reminiscing rather than enjoying his reading. With the paper up he could not see the window and the filthy American streets beyond, heavy with the burden of the unemployed and the useless drifters. It was almost just like being back in the old country, and he relished the familiar feeling of it all. With the paper hiding his view, Gilbert could pretend that he was back home.

It was a shame that all he needed now to complete the picture was a bitter beer in his hand. The absence of the drink was a smart he found himself disliking more than country itself. He could almost feel the cool tankard of dark liquid against his palm, even though he knew that he was just wishful thinking. American beer tasted like piss, bootlegged or not. Gilbert had spat out the crap when he had first tasted it, much to Ivan's amusement, and had refused to drink it since. He would have given his other hand if it meant he could only quench his thirst with a proper German brew.

Of course, he was not permitted to drink in the apartment. Birdie was a perfect house mate on most issues but she did not approve of his drinking, at least not on a casual basis.

Gilbert removed his cigarette briefly to exhale thoughtfully. The newspaper was as dull as ever in its report on all things American: the boom in the economy, silly speculations about the present government and updates in the town. There was nothing even remotely interesting to read or fill his time with, hence his unusual daydreaming.

Gilbert found himself taking in the small room. The only boon he had ever received for working with Ivan was this small apartment. He was lucky to have been given such a place when Ivan's other workers had to live within the stifling four walls of the office complex he owned on the east side of the city. Toris and the others were constantly under their master's gaze, the poor bastards. Gilbert was lucky to have escaped that claustrophobic building and its horrid occupant, but he guessed that he was lucky that even Ivan did not like him enough to live with him.

Instead he had been given a modest apartment (admittedly not far from his boss' residence, Ivan had to keep an eye on him somehow) but it was clean and warm and suited to his tastes. It was rent free too and his wages could be spent on food and the other trappings of life rather than having to worry about rent day every month. The walls had wood panelling which was a little out of fashion with the times but Gilbert was quite fond of them. They made the whole place dark and moody but the lamps that lit up the corners of the room gave it a homely sort of feeling. The whole place was small, five rooms at the most, but it was comfortable.

And he needed somewhere comfortable for Birdie to stay. He wasn't personally one to care about where he was living; as long as there was a bed to rest his head, food and a supply of cigarettes, he was happy to stay anywhere. But she was a lady and ladies had to have certain things, like a working bathroom and a coal fire. It was the little things that made women happy, things that he as a man had no conception of but that women should always be allowed to indulge in.

Or at least that was Gilbert's belief.

He glanced over to the lady in question. Birdie (because he had stopped calling her Bridget a long time ago on one, misty New York night) was on the other side of the room, ironing their clothes for the next day, a neat little pile already forming beside her. The little metal device whizzed over the shirt fronts, watched intently by her dark eyes.

Birdie was pretty. She had the perfect little nose and sweet face of a cherub, her hair blonde and soft above those crisp, dark eyes with just the right amount of fire in for Gilbert's liking.

She was plain and quiet by nature though which Gilbert had never considered to be his type. Her muteness had bled into her very existence and she tended to slide demurely into the background of any conversation like a shadow. He had thought he liked his women as bright and as brief as a night on the town but now he was not certain about anything anymore.

He had told himself from the beginning it was her drive he had admired, her willingness to work with such a risky plan that had first caught his eye. Their original plan had been a simple one, but it had banked on a lot of things that could have gone horribly wrong and gotten the both of them killed. Birdie had not seemed concerned at the danger, and Gilbert had never shown his own fear although he had felt it in the pit of his stomach. Ivan was not a man you crossed lightly and he was certain harbouring a potential source of income for the man, just to leave his own conscious untarnished, was more than crossing the guy.

The plan was this: Birdie would be introduced as Gilbert's helper boy and continue to live and work with him for the future.

If it worked Birdie would never have to lose her dignity again; if it failed, well Gilbert had thought up so many outcomes and scenarios, none of them ending pleasantly. Mostly it involved him, a gun and a black bag. But luckily though as the fates would have it, Ivan hadn't done anything but glance in Birdie's direction and had spent too much time bossing around Gilbert that even after four years on the job they still hadn't been found out.

Her silence was the key, but her figure helped. Birdie was fashionably slim built and dainty. With a suit on and her hair swept back she passed easily for a young man as long as she kept her eyes lowered and diverted anyone's attention from looking too closely at her delicate jaw line. Looking at her now without all those trappings on, Gilbert could not understand how anyone could see her as anything but female.

He wanted to believe it was her bravery that got into his head, but it had been those long lashes and puckered lips he had first seen under the harsh lighting of a diner bar. It was those same features that he could not stop noticing since.

Before starting the ironing Birdie had been in the bath and her hair was still drying in a golden halo around her head, the little waves dancing in front of her face as she moved to place a cleanly ironed shirt on top of the other. A loose camisole slip covered her slim frame. Gilbert was not sure whether it was her not so glorious past that made her less body conscious or whether she was just comfortable with herself, but Birdie had a habit of not wearing very much around the home. Every evening she would take a bath, bathe in a lightly floral scented mist and slide her lithe body into these pretty little dresses, ready for bed and sleep. The first time she had done it Gilbert had averted his eyes in embarrassment. A few years on he had got over the initial shock of the sight of her body, but it didn't stop him just watching and staring sometimes.

As much as he didn't want to admit it, he was only a man and she was a _very_ pretty lady.

_Jeez, he needed to get his mind out of the gutter._

A warm blush spread across his face at the thought and he coughed distractedly. Just as he thrust the newspaper back up and over his face, he caught Birdie glance and his direction and pull her lips in a smile that made him internally groan. This was surely some form of torture in some countries.

If he had his own way she would be covered at all times, but he knew it broke Birdie inside not to be able to dress like she wanted on a day to day basis. She liked her dresses and wearing guys clothes, even if it was for her own good, sometimes got a little too much for her. Gilbert felt guilty for that. It had been his idea in the first place to have her dress up like a man, but he had not known the effects it would have on her. She never complained or said anything, but as a mute her body language and facial expressions spoke volumes and Gilbert had become a master of reading them. Like now, she was folding the clothes with a plain face, but there was a slight turn of her mouth in distaste as she brushed out her own uniform for the next day.

He sighed.

"What time is it?" He asked her, not because he was too lazy to turn around in his seat and look for himself, but because it would take her mind off whatever it was she was thinking. And he liked to think she enjoyed talking to him, even a little. She was the only one who did.

Her dark eyes glanced up from her immaterial preoccupation, followed by a series of short hand movements.

"_Quarter to 8_." Came the reply, and then. "_Do you think he will come over today_?"

The sign language was a limited way of speaking but it suited them well when they were having a simple conversation. When it was a little more complex, Birdie tended to throw in her own specialised whistles that Gilbert had caught onto when they had first met. The signs and the whistles were as vocal as any words and he had no difficulty in processing their meaning.

"Probably not." He huffed into his newspaper, watching her response from the corner of his eye.

"_He's been avoiding you_." She wasn't one to point out the obvious but Birdie had a habit of making the truth sound much more painful. She was right though, how long had it been now?

He shrugged though because he didn't want to seem concerned.

"He must have been busy and you know how difficult it can be for him to get away." He replied. "With all things considered too, I'm not surprised he's been avoiding this place. What happened was hardly what I promised him."

There was a flutter of silk and Birdie had moved from her position at the other side of the room to perch on the seat across from him. Her eyebrows were low and worried, and try as he might, Gilbert could not break away from her gaze.

"_Do you think he might be backing out_?" Her question was a troubling one because he was not sure of the answer. If the answer to it was 'yes' there was sure to be trouble as he had been banking on the support. But he forced a self assured grin onto his face and put his newspaper down on the table next to him, slapping it against the wood with perhaps too much force.

"Of course not! Why would he want to leave the awesomeness that is me?" He laughed because it hurt to see his friend's saddened and worried face and he couldn't help but add, "Cheer up, Birdie! Even if he does leave, it won't be a big deal-"

"_But the plan_." She insisted. She was a mute but her sharp whistles still had enough power to cut over his voice. "_What will happen to the plan if he leaves, I thought you needed his help for this to work_?"

"Not necessarily." Gilbert admitted because it was true, and his plan wasn't set in concrete: it had just seemed the best one at the time. There were always more to work through. More dangerous, yeah but still plans. Birdie did not look convinced though and he could not stop himself from leaning forward and patting her on the head, his hand lingering on the drying strands perhaps for a little too long. "Don't worry about it, little bird. I still have you, don't I? Everything will be fine with you watching my back, I'm not worried."

Birdie did not respond, but instead took his hand off from where Gilbert had left it and held it tightly on her lap instead, her small fingers curling around his own digits as she breathed in deeply. She was still upset and Gilbert didn't know how to fix it. He returned the hold to her hand with emotion, letting down his guard however briefly before responding.

"Hey, don't give me that face." He burst out, unable to stop himself. Gilbert used his other hand to place a finger under her chin so that he could lift her dark eyes to meet his own. They were troubled and he did not like it, so he smiled through his own concerns as he always did, the movement painfully straining his face. "Don't worry about me, I mean it. Look at me! It's gonna take more than a friend chickening out to stop me. I don't even think the fires of hell stand a chance against _this_. So come on, no worries Birdie. How about some tea, eh?"

She looked for a moment as if she was going to argue as she stared into his eyes critically and invasively, only to sigh out a low whistle of agreement and smile.

Gilbert couldn't help but think it was about as sincere as his own.

She rose up anyway in a fluid and easy movement that sent her short skirts flapping and a blush burning on Gilbert's face. She flew past him gracefully, not even pausing as she ran her hand over his head, fingers catching in the short strands. He did not let Birdie see the unconscious way he leaned into her touch because he knew deep down that she was not that sort of woman anymore.

When they had first met he had found her charming despite her past. He had thought she was beautiful, but fragile and delicate after her treatment at the hands of some clumsy people. Gilbert had kept her close because he thought himself responsible and he could not allow anyone to deal with what he saw as his: he had found her, so he would care for her. His father would have called him stupid, his grandfather would have called him a fool, but his mother's teaching had shown him that women needed to be treated properly to be happy.

And above everything he had wanted to see Birdie happy.

It did not take him long to see that she was not delicate like a flower but as strong and powerful as a thorn. He had wrapped himself around her, only to be caught by the heart.

He had to remind himself always that her gestures were friendly, that was all. Gilbert had grown accustomed to her closeness and her ways of making him feel powerless to his core, but he had also mastered the art of hiding it.

He refused to scare her away, Gilbert would not be every other man that had hurt and damaged her. If he had to hold back then so be it.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Birdie pause in the shadow of the kitchen doorway. There was something tense and anxious in the set of her slim shoulders, but Gilbert did not turn to face her just as she stayed facing the kitchen window and the glimpse of the city beyond. The lights twinkled like stars. He was curious to see what would happen. She seemed to be struggling with some internal thoughts which made her hands flicker before her in a stutter, like she was trying to shape out the words before she expressed them.

With a sharp whistle that Gilbert had come to assume was his name she directed his attention onto herself, Birdie turned around suddenly. Her eyes were set in determination and her hands shook as she rose them to sign something, Gilbert's heart beating wildly in his chest all of a sudden, though he couldn't place why-

Two knocks cut through the room. Birdie and Gilbert jumped at the sudden intrusion, she forcing her hands down by her sides as he jumped upright in his seat.

"Speak of the devil and he shall appear." He laughed half-heartedly as he tried to get himself under control. He was irrationally frustrated at the intrusion even though he knew who was at the door. There was only one person that could possibly be at an hour like this, and he needed his wits about him.

_Business now_, he scolded himself even though his face burned, _just business_.

But what had she wanted to say-?

"_I'll get the door_." She signed quickly. Her cheeks flamed red as she hurried off to answer it, giving Gilbert only a few moments to sort himself out and make it look as though he had just been disturbed in the middle of actually doing something. He picked back up his paper, opened it on a random page and pretended to read the text in front of him as the door was opened with a clatter and one sided chatter filled the room, mumbled and indistinct.

When Birdie and her companion re-entered the sitting room the individual, a man, was still chatting.

"..you grow more beautiful everyday, _ma cherie_." Francis Bonnefoy was, in Gilbert's eyes, the personification of all things French. Everything about the way the man moved and talked spoke volumes of _frenchness_. Francis was not a person that walked but rather slid into rooms, his movements as fluid and as graceful as a dancer, and with a tongue that would have made even the hardiest of nuns blush. He was delicate in ways that Gilbert was not, nor could he ever dream to be. He was a womaniser, a sly bastard and one of Gilbert's closest friends and allies.

Still, Birdie was not available for any of his conquests. He might have been one of the only people to know their secret but it did not give him a free pass to have his way with her.

"How many times do I have to warn you to, you ass?" He growled threateningly from behind his raised paper. There was no need to express any more sentiments than that because every time Francis sleeked his way into their apartment it was the same ordeal. An infuriatingly tinkling laugh reached his ears as Birdie pulled on a nightgown to cover herself. It was not embarrassment that forced her hand, but rather Gilbert's own preference for her to cover up when Francis was around, because friend or not he wouldn't trust him with her. He was a slimeball.

"Don't just stand there, get over here. Where the hell have you been?"

That made him shut his mouth. As Francis stepped closer to the chair as ordered, seating himself in the seat Birdie had recently vacated. Gilbert could see that his friend was looking tired behind a sharp façade. His usual immaculate suit was crumpled and worn, his hair scraped back off his sharp lined face into a loose ponytail at the back. Black smudges marred the skin under his eyes. All in all his friend did not look like his usual self.

"Birdie, can-?" But she was already miles ahead of him as she placed a tray of glasses and a decanter of their fancy stuff out on the small table in front of him. She didn't approve of him drinking much but even Birdie could see that Francis was in dire need of a stiff shot of something. Francis opened the bottle himself without asking, poured a liberal amount and threw it back before refilling his cup and serving Gilbert his own.

Well, he definitely needed to talk.

"Here." Gilbert muttered, handing Birdie the paper he had been reading. "I folded over the fashion pages for you, if you'd like to read them. Francis and I need to chat in private."

Francis watched the interaction over the lip of his glass, Gilbert could feel his eyes on him as Birdie nodded and smiled. The small gesture of thoughtfulness on his part seemed to please her immensely and she pressed a quick peck on his hairline before darting up the small stairs to the bedrooms. Where her lips touched his skin tingled and he rubbed the spot complacently as he turned back to Francis who had found a glint in his eye and a sly grin to adorn his mouth, despite his apparent tiredness.

"Shut up." Gilbert snapped even though his friend had not said a word. _Yet_. It was not as if they hadn't already had the conversation in question, especially on drunken nights at the bars in the town before the damn things had closed down. He swigged his drink and replaced the glass with a clatter to give his cheeks time to stop burning, pulling a face because whiskey was not and would never be the beer he was craving.

"What took you so long to come over?"

The sparkle in Francis' eye dimmed as he placed his glass to join Gilbert's on the table. He was slouching, Gilbert realised. Francis was always so straight backed and there he was curved over like a beggar.

"Arthur 'as been working later than usual, 'e 'as been in the office and on his stakeouts until late most evenings." Francis said, his voice lacking its usual strength. He sounded worn out. "I 'ave been at 'ome with the children, like a good nanny. It 'as been 'ard to slip away."

"But you're here tonight."

"Yes, I'ad to come over." Francis looked shocked to admit it. He poured another drink for them both with a hand that shook ever so slightly, dripping flecks of burnt gold liquid onto the table top to mark it like tears. He was silent for a second as he took a measured sip and then he spoke. "I could not rest knowing that I left things sour between us, I 'ave come to apologise, Gilbert."

Gilbert took up his own glass but did not drink, eyeing the man before him with growing concern. He did not the way this conversation was heading. "You and I both know that's not all you're here for Francis. Spit it out, go on."

The words hung between them dangerously. Francis averted his gaze as if ashamed and Gilbert understood straight away, he had to put down his glass for a fear he might throw it on the ground.

"You're backing out."

_His worst fears were confirmed-_

"It's not like that-"

"Then what the hell is it meant to be like-?" He hadn't meant to raise his voice but there it was bouncing back at him off the walls.

"Gil," Francis did not snap but the urgency in his tone cut Gilbert's words short like he had cracked a whip over his head. The Frenchman hissed through clenched teeth, his eyes wide and his expression dark. "That boy probably _died_. You cannot act as if everything is okay, you cannot expect me to carry on with this work knowing this. I was not employed to kill."

There was the crux of the matter. Gilbert had recruited Francis a few years ago to help him complete some of his jobs. Sometimes his work involved heavy lifting, a task suitable for two men, and as far as Ivan was concerned he had two in the form of Gilbert and Birdie. Francis was out of the books and out of the eye of the boss to perform the tasks that Birdie could not do. He had been dragged into this world, yes but still, he had not been unwilling.

"What about the money?" Gilbert countered. When Francis had first joined him to work, cash had been a major factor. Francis never discussed why he needed the money so badly and he in return had not pried because he knew everyone needed their secrets. Even so he knew the money that he gave Francis for his share of the job meant a lot to the other man. To see him turn it down was something of a shock and Gilbert felt he had to remind the other man of his need for income.

"I can live without the money," There was melancholy in Francis' tone that would not go away, but there was something else laying under the surface, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. A pause as he sipped the golden liquid in his glass even though he looked queasy doing it.

"Arthur doesn't tell me much," He sounded bitter admitting it, "but I can tell 'e is getting close to the end of his case now. 'E 'as that light back in his eyes. William, Arthur's brother, is an old friend through the family; 'e 'as been 'elping 'im while he stays 'ere in America. I think 'e knows something is off though, William is always watching me these days, and what if he was to find out about all of this? Gilbert, I cannot sleep at night-"

"Yeah, yeah. I get it." Gilbert waved him down before the other man could get into full flow. It wasn't that he was being heartless, rather that he didn't want to hear it himself. It took a lot of time and effort to put up mental walls to keep out the stuff he had to do under Ivan, he didn't want them just breaking down like that. Francis had always been more open in the world of emotions but that was not Gilbert's way. "Weird time for you to develop a sense of honour, Francis. You weren't thinking about these things when you had the money lining your pocket-"

"I am no murderer-"

That pushed a button in Gilbert he didn't know he had. He hadn't wanted to be but suddenly he was very annoyed at Francis.

"It wasn't even you!" Gilbert had seen his own bullet hit the boy, he had seen it make contact and the look of shock and pain that had passed over his face because of_ him_. Francis was backing out because he felt guilty when it hadn't even been his fault. Somehow that just wasn't right. "You're just getting a little hot under the collar and you want out, don't make up excuses. But still, I never took you for a _coward_, Francis-"

The movement was sudden and quick, one second Francis was sat meekly in his chair and the next his eyes flashed with flaming pride. He was up and towering above him a moment later with his hands no longer before him but clutched as fists by his side.

Gilbert realised his mistake a second later.

"I am no coward, Gilbert!" Francis was not shouting but his voice carried throughout the room like a thunder clap, leaving Gilbert stunned and unable to move in his seat. "I fought for my country. I saw 'orrors and actions that 'ave made me lose faith in humanity until I could not sleep at night-"

"Francis-" Gilbert tried to stop him because he knew immediately his words had been so very _wrong_-

He just hadn't thought-

"No! You will listen!" The fury in Francis' eyes was like flames, he had never seen him so mad and at the same time broken. The was something breaking behind the blue glass of his eyes, over and over again until the tears began to fall, but he did not wipe them away. "I lost comrades and friends for my 'omeland. I watch them burn farms like they burnt the corpses, slick from the stink of the trenches. 'Eartless, all of it. Don't you tell me I am a coward when I threw myself into that war when I didn't 'ave to-"

He himself hadn't risen to the call for war, Gilbert knew that. He would admit it too. He was looking at a soldier when he was no more than a common civilian and that made him feel disgusting. Gilbert had stayed at home, and for a reason, because who would have looked after little Ludwig with his parents in their watery graves if he hadn't? Coward had been a word tossed at him on the street like mud because that was all they saw. They didn't see the little broken boy at home or the way that Gilbert struggled. No, he was a coward because he did not pick up arms like the other boys.

Such a vile, toxic word: 'coward', it burrowed under the skin, ate him alive and made him want to fight. But he had not.

His friend had. Gilbert hadn't known about Francis. The war was something no one spoke about in such a new bright age of prosperity, it was a gloomy thing of the past. If he had known he would have kept his big mouth shut because he had no right to judge what he himself did not understand.

"-and I limped 'ome on leave because I couldn't take it anymore and I _stayed_ there. I stayed with the family and the responsibility I had ran from in the first place. Why?! Because I was _smart_-"

Gilbert made to stand, to calm him. "Francis, I didn't mean-"

"I am not a _coward_, Gilbert!" His voice spiked dangerously as he threw his hand in front of him. Somewhere through the air, the back of his hand connected with the top of the decanter and the whole thing toppled to the floor where it shattered into tiny, bright shards with a sound like a shot. Neither of them looked at it though, too focused on each other: Gilbert, pale and silent in his shame, Francis heavy breathing with tears at his cheeks.

"There are no such things as cowards, there are only smart people and fools." Francis spat, his hands shaking. "Fools run into danger, bravery is just stupidity with the best results. A fool with no luck is just a body in a bag. Cowards are despised but they are smart and they survived. This is once again not my war, and I do not want to be an _idiot_."

Gilbert opened his mouth to say something but there was a patter of bare feet on the stairs and the next second Birdie had burst into the room, her dressing gown flapping about her body like a cloak. The noise of the glass must have startled her because she was holding a standard pistol aloft, one of the ones that Ivan had issued them, and she did not look fazed about having to use it. Her dark eyes took in the scene, the glass sparkling on the floor and the two men clearly caught in the act of an argument, and she lowered the weapon slightly.

"Sorry for disturbing you, Birdie." Gilbert felt he should apologise because Francis seemed to have lost the ability to talk and instead had taken to staring shaken at the floor with his hands clenched into fists at his side. It was Gilbert's fault for going too far, _but if he had known_... "It was an accident, we'll get it cleaned up right away. No need for you to worry-"

"I should leave." So Francis still had a voice after all. He didn't look at either of them as he collected his jacket from where he had placed it on the back of his chair. "I 'ave said my piece, I'm sorry for the mess. Goodnight, Gilbert, _mademoiselle_."

He sped from the room before Gilbert could even stop him, brushing past Birdie in an eagerness to leave the apartment, perhaps for good. Gilbert was frozen to the floor until the sound of the front door slamming shut brought his attention back. He caught Birdie's dark eyes in panic. One whistle and nod from her was all that it took for him to jump over the glass and run for the door. He left the apartment in a blaze but Francis was nowhere to be seen, he must have already hurried down the stairs.

A quick look over the banister held a glimpse of material darting out of sight.

"Francis, wait!" Gilbert yelled as he launched himself down the steps in pursuit. His feet thundering beneath him on the creaky wooden flooring like it would splinter beneath his weight. The neighbours wouldn't be pleased but he couldn't care less about what they thought.

He would not allow his friend to leave so suddenly, not when they still had issues to work through. He needed to apologise, shit-!

"Francis!" He called when he hit the bottom of the stairs at a run, his words halting the figure that had left through the door and out onto the cool street outside. The night was chill and empty, and as Gilbert pushed his way through the entrance to meet the other man, it was only the two of them and the evening air on the street.

The Frenchman turned to face him with a solemn look in his eye. His face was no longer wet from tears, he must have dried it as he made his escape, but his eyes were still red and morose under the glare of the street lamps.

"I am sorry for acting like that, Gilbert." He muttered in quick apology. He only turned his body slightly in his direction as he spoke, still eager it seemed to get away from him. "But it is 'ard to 'ear those words again after all this time. You 'ave to understand, I 'ave too much to lose getting into a fight that is not my own. I have my boy to think about, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise, I'm sorry for bringing it up. I wouldn't have if I'd have known." He wanted to tell him he understood, that it had been the same for him, but that would have been lies. He did not understood because it had not been the same, so he kept his mouth shut for once.

Francis waved his words away and pursed his lips. "It 'as been ten years now, you would have thought I would be over it by now. But my point still stands, I can no longer 'elp you out. It is too dangerous for my family and I."

Gilbert's heart felt heavy at the admittance he had felt coming from the night he had dragged Francis into the middle of a gang war, but he forced a grin onto his face as he always did and tried to brush off the disappointment that sat cold and frigid in his chest.

"Not everyone can be as stupid as me, eh?"

Francis' eyes were sad, as was the turn of his mouth as he _really _looked at Gilbert and shook his head slightly.

"Oh, _mon ami_, you are the most stupid man I know. And the most lucky. I envy you, I do; it would take a true fool to act as though he had nothing to lose when in fact he has everything, just like any other mortal man. I hope your luck remains as it is, Gilbert, for all of our sakes." He turned to leave with one final nod. "I must go, the boys are alone. _Bonne chance, au revoir_."

He was going and suddenly Gilbert knew there was one last thing Francis could help him with.

"Luck is as fickle as a woman we both know that, Francis." He commented. His voice was lighter and more jovial than he could have ever intended, even with his heart pounding in his head as he stepped lightly down the small steps that lead from the apartments. He grasped onto his friend's sleeve and Francis stopped, but did not face him. "And my track record with the ladies is abysmal to say the least. Could you do me one thing at least, old friend?"

Francis bowed his turned head and seemed to be torn with himself before he sighed brittlely. "That depends on the favour..."

"When the time comes," He was surprised at the strength in his own voice as he spoke, especially with the way his hands shook on Francis' fancy sleeves. "-well _if_ the time comes, can I ask of you to be hospitable to friends, to look after them if Luck doesn't fancy being gracious anymore? Can I count on you to do what's right? For old time's sake."

Francis span to look at him as if he had said something unspeakable. Under the street lights his blue eyes seemed even more wide and searching than they had all night, a small crease of confusion in his forehead making him look like an old man under its relief. Gilbert was not surprised when the Frenchman took both of his hands in his own and held onto them like they were both hanging on the edge of a cliff.

_The question was, who was falling?_

"You stupid, stupid man, do you even 'ave to ask?"

oOo

_Tonight wasn't the night again_, Mathias thought as he chewed the end of a toothpick into mush.

Days had passed them by since they had received the order to get the police off their backs from Roma, but there had been no chance to even get close to the Kirkland boys for almost a week. They had kept watch on the officer's house every evening for any sign of the boys being left alone, but so far they had no luck with it. Every day there was someone house, they were left sat in a cold car and their chance was gone.

Waiting was a very boring game. At first there was the sense of expectation, the sort of feeling that made you jump at every movement; Mathias had lost count the amount of times he had jumped when a light had turned on and off in the flat above the shop. Then when that had calmed down it became pretty dull. You watched the clock, you day dreamed, the house could have set on fire and you wouldn't even blink an eye because it wasn't what you were looking for (although Mathias had thought faintly that it would have made their job a lot quicker and easier if it burst into flame).

It did not help that every evening they sat watching the building made the churning feeling in his stomach increase with worry. He still wasn't eager to complete the job but things had been tense lately in the household and he knew that any complaints would have earned him a bullet straight through the skull. The boss' grandson had been a lot worse off than anyone had thought from what he had weeded out of Heracles, bad enough that the boss had been fretting and as wild as an animal trapped in a corner. He was probably not the only one to heave a sigh of relief when the news the Lovino's fever had broken had spread. The young man was still out of commission even now, but at least he was on the mend.

Mathias dreaded to think of what life would have been like if he'd kicked the bucket.

Glancing around the inside of the car in boredom, Mathias took in his companions. Heracles was snoozing lightly in the back seat with Sadiq. Both of them were nodding off even though the temperature of the car and the shape of the seats was not making it an optimal space for sleeping in. Mathias didn't mind too much, he knew that the pair were at Roma's beck and call all the time and they had been running extra missions and had extra duties now the house was getting used to functioning without a butler. Mathias almost appreciated the silence too because he was sure if they were more awake they would be arguing as usual but the extra work had really taken it out of them.

Lukas was the only other member of the car. The young man was still pale and wasn't sleeping well (which was worrying the hell out of Mathias, so much so he himself was losing sleep over it), but the sense of purpose from the job seemed to be pushing him forward much like a canon ball straight from a canon. Mathias was just waiting for the destruction of the crash.

As it was, Lukas was on lookout right now from the other front seat. He was staring straight ahead at the building before them, safe from their hidden alley hideout. His cold eyes were taking in everything so that Mathias and the others didn't have to.

Sadiq snored from the back seat. It was cold and he was tired. Mathias was just closing his own eyes, thinking about how good a nap would do him right now when he felt Lukas stiffen beside him.

"What is it?" He mumbled through the dark, blearily attempting to gaze through the dark to find out what it was the other boy had spotted. He saw nothing but Lukas was already turning in his seat to hit the other two men awake.

"The other man left the house, and the Kirkland brothers are not in." He explained when Heracles and Sadiq jolted awake to grumble at each other accusingly for a moment before latching onto Lukas' words in the dark. "The boys are alone, now's our chance. Come on."

Without further explanation he had opened the car door and jumped out into the night. In the back, the other two hastened to act just as quickly, adjusting themselves before throwing themselves out onto the alley. Mathias hesitated because he didn't like this idea one bit but with the sight of the three men's back hurrying in the opposite direction, he had no choice but to follow.

He knew he was going to regret this for sure.

oOo

**Sorry there's a lack of Lovino this chapter, the past few have been very Lovi-centric and I need to tell the rest of the story cos it is as important as his points. He is back next chapter though.**

**Thanks as usual to my beta and to you the readers for your support. Sorry it took so long once again!**

**Please drop a review :) until next time!**


	35. Paradise Lost

**Sorry this took so long! A quick thanks to my beta for checking this even though it is late (and for the extra sass and sorry for the first paragraph good grief!) and thanks to all new followers, favourites and reviews! On with the show!**

**Disclaimer- Hetalia doesn't belong to me**

oOo

In a way, William's arrival in America had made Arthur's past few weeks a lot easier. There was always someone to talk to at work and also someone to dish out the boring jobs to. Not to mention always someone to go and get his morning coffee and then supply his tea for the rest of the day. And now, every morning and evening he had a free chauffeur to drive him to and from work. William always insisted on driving because he claimed to not trust Arthur in front of the wheel, but both of them knew that he really just wanted to feel like the big brother doing something for his younger sibling. It had been the same when they had been back at their mother's home, although that had been a long time ago.

Arthur would never admit it, but it was good to see his brother again, even if he was a bit of a pain. Their relationship, while it had grown and changed as they had become older, still consisted on them complaining whilst they looked out for each other. He had missed it more than he thought.

They were just returning from yet another stakeout and Arthur was relaxing back in his seat. He had yawned loudly in a brief pause in the conversation. The car was full of his own voice as he chatted away to William: it was simple stuff about the case and trivial titbits of information on the office. It was very late, almost early morning, and the roads were clear. His brother, with the skill of a seasoned driver, managed to keep his eyes on the road but his attention on gossip. His head bobbed with understanding out of the corner of Arthur's eye, who maintained his habit of keeping his eyes on the road from driving himself into work. The rest of the city were tucked up in their beds sound asleep. He stared out of the windscreen as he spoke, watching the silent houses and the muted colour of the drawn curtains. Arthur wished he could be like them without a care in the world, but another unsuccessful stake out meant another short night of poor sleep as he would toss and turn to think the case over until the even-earlier hours of the morning, when-

The light hit him first. A sudden and explosive firework blinding his eyes, in a stark contrast to the still streets and silent houses they had passed previously. The sound came after, dulled and muffled by the glass and metal of the car, but loud enough to be heard even from their position at the end of the street.

At first he thought there was some mistake, that William had pulled onto the wrong road. New to the city, he didn't know where he was going yet and often made wrong turns. Arthur did not realise he had stopped speaking until his brain registered that the only sound in the car was the noise from outside the vehicle. William had pulled the car to a sudden halt that made both of them jump forward slightly in their seats.

Arthur stared and realised that no, this was his road.

There were people milling about everywhere, jumping in front of one car headlight to the next with a sense of professional purpose in movements. From a distance they were just figures but even he could see the cut of their shoulders and their determined strides. The small road was practically aflame with the light of the vehicles, but also from the light that spilled from the open windows of the homes and flats looking out onto the street. In some windows, dark shadows haunted the frame whereas on the steps leading out onto the street people were crowded in their nightgowns, looking with wide eyes at the scene before them.

The other people hurrying around were officials, Arthur realised. Police and medical staff.

And it was his home they were parked outside.

"Oh-" Arthur did not catch William's swear because he was already throwing himself out of the car and out onto the road, running as fast as he could towards the scene. The sound and the light submerged him like he had dived into a pool of water; he emerged from the other side and cut through the crowd like he was the last survivor of a giant catastrophe, and they were the smoke from the last standing building. He was barely aware of the stares he received, too unsure where even to begin. It was his own house he stood before, and he struggled to wrap the fact around his head. There were people everywhere but who should he ask? Where could he go? There seemed a hundred and one things he should be doing, he had certainly left the car with some sort of intent but now he was too overwhelmed.

He was an officer of the law but he did not even know who to turn to for answers-

"Dad! _Dad_!" A voice ripped through the night. A figure detached itself from the other side of the barrier the nameless officials who held the crowd back made and ran at him at full pelt. Arthur barely had time to open his arms before the person barrelled into him, clutching onto him breathlessly and so tightly he thought they would never let go.

Alfred was shaking and crying, his eldest son who was so nearly a man, was in tears and Arthur could do nothing because he could not quite understand what was going on. There was sound and light everywhere and he couldn't think _straight_-

"They took him!" Even when his boy, his little boy, started to explain it didn't seem to sink in. The information floated as oil on water on the surface of his consciousness. All Arthur could do was clutch at Alfred, pulling him to his chest just to feel the beat of his heart. _Safe, he was safe. But why the tears? _"Dad, I couldn't stop them, I'm sorry! I just-"

"My God, Alfred- what happened?" William seemed to have disentangled himself from the car and had appeared, pale and angry, at Arthur's elbow. Alfred peeled himself from his father's shirt. He had a red welt on his face that was starting to bruise around his eye which was already inflamed from the tears that had made wet tracks on his face.

_Someone had hit him_.

"The men, they came into the house!" He wasn't making much sense, or rather Arthur couldn't quite grasp the meaning behind his words. Alfred could barely get his words out around sobs and most likely pain in his jaw from whoever had _hit _him. "I tried to protect them both, but they took _him_-"

"Calm down," William tried to hush him, pulling the boy over and look him directly in the eyes with both hands on his shoulder, anchoring him in place. Arthur knew that should have been his job but all he could think about was that mark on his son's face. As William spoke he ghosted his hand over it briefly and did a quick check for more injuries, taking in his whole body in a sweeping glance.

_Fine, he seemed fine._

"Alfred, you need to calm down and explain to me what happened. Who did this?"

He was really trying to calm down, to suck in deep breaths but sobs were still erupting and shaking his shoulders.

"I don't know- men! Some men!" His blue eyes wheeled around, from father to uncle and back again, as he piece together the events of the night. Arthur could tell but his son was foolhardy and rash at the best of time. A trait inherited from a stubborn father and developed by an insulted little life above an ice cream shop where all the monsters stayed on the streets below. Streets that were his father's responsibility to keep safe. "They broke the lock, we didn't have time to hide. They went straight for Peter, and I tried to get them off him but they knocked me down- Mattie stepped in but they had a _gun_-"

The words sent Arthur's legs moving before he had even realised where it was they were taking him. William and Alfred were shouting behind him but he stormed ahead to the first and only ambulance that he could see, sat on the curb like a white hearse. The doors open at the back and the smallest glimpse of a thin body-

"Arthur, wait!"

He looked around the doors, barely daring to see what sight met him- when pale eyes looked up at him in confusion. Matthew was bundled up in a blanket on a stretcher, his head wrapped in bandages and his eyes unfocused and red _but Jesus Christ he was alive_. Arthur felt like sinking to his knees in relief but that feeling was overcome by an ever growing anger that made him grit his teeth to avoid yelling out.

"When they hit me Mattie jumped in, but one of them whacked him on the head and he collapsed." Alfred explained tearfully, his emotions a little more under control now but still shaking and fearful in the harsh light.

Arthur was struck with the image of the fight: the older boy stepping in, and the middle child throwing himself like a wildcat on faceless men. The suddenness of the attack would have been what had overcome Alfred ability, yet Matthew was a short teen, he would have been easily defeated by their attackers' sheer size. It made Arthur clench his hands into fists. He was a _boy_. "One of them took a shot but the other one pushed the gun away and it missed, so they just hit him instead to get him away. He didn't wake up until the paramedics arrived, I thought he was _dead_-"

Alfred's face crumpled a little and William put a hand on his nephew's shoulder as he tried to go on breathlessly.

"By the time I'd got up again they'd ran off with Peter. They had a car and just drove away, I couldn't do-"

"It's okay Alfred, you did the right thing." William shushed him, tugging him close. His eyes locked with Arthur over the boy's head and Arthur heard him voice aloud the words that had been sitting and clicking over in the corner of his mind.

"Where was Francis when all this happened? He should have been in the house."

"Papa was out again." Matthew's voice was slow and dazed, but they rang clear as day in Arthur's ears.

He saw red.

Arthur's fury broke like a wave and he lashed out at the closest object, a trash can which he sent flying through the air with a vicious kick. He was very aware of the roar of rage that ripped from his throat, and also the way that the police officers and neighbours alike who started to stare evermore in his direction. But he didn't care. He knew that there was no way that Francis could have stopped all this, not facing a multitude of men with guns, but if he'd have been in the house then perhaps all this wouldn't have happened. Perhaps if he'd have been in then the boys wouldn't have been hurt. Peter had been taken away, and Francis should have been there to do something about it.

Peter was _gone_, taken-

He had sank to the floor and Alfred was crying again, William was attempting to calm him down again as Arthur smacked his hand against the floor with grains of gravel biting at his palm.

There was very little doubt in his mind as to who had done this. The answer was practically laid out before him in writing. There was only one man who believed he owned the town. One man who would go to such lengths. Only one man who would be cruel enough to steal a young child from his home-

_Where had they gone? What were they doing to him?_

This was all Arthur's fault, a fault of his damned pride. He had falsely believed in his own safe position, falsely trusted in his own clout. Roma would never attack him in the home, Roma probably didn't even know who he was. After all a single detective, a single officer, was only one member of the force.

But of course Roma had known. He had sent men to his office to persuade him to drop the case. Men Arthur had turned away quite clearly. Roma had eyes, ears, and clearly, hand everywhere. Like a den of rats they had crept under the foundations of the city and right up through to the floorboards of his house. Despite all Arthur's efforts, every small win he had achieved, they had been nothing on a grand scale of things. Roma was still winning he would always be winning.

And now his little boy would pay the price. His whole family would pay for Arthur's self assurance in the face of an unstoppable force of nature that cared for no one but himself. Arthur punched the floor again and again, the skin splitting across his knuckles but he refused to cry out. _Stupid, stupid, stupid_! How could he have ever been so foolhardy? How could have even thought he could win?

Then a voice spoke up that he had not expected, nor did he want right now. "_Mon dieu_, Matthew- what 'appened-?"

Arthur moved fast. He threw himself up off the floor and in the general direction of the voice. His face twisted with rage and words bubbling up like acid in his throat from the physical pain in his chest. He didn't see where Francis had come from, he didn't even consider the other man's shocked face before he lunged and grabbed him by the collar.

"What happened- what _HAPPENED_?!"

"Arthur, no-!" William put his hand on his shoulder and attempted to detach him from the Frenchman. Yet Arthur, in his fury, was much stronger. He held onto Francis' shirt in with an iron grip, shaking him so those blue eyes of his would look at him in the face and tell him _why_. He would explain where he had been and why it had been so important of him to leave the boys on their own.

"Men took my boy away!" He was screaming in the other man's face and William's hands had moved to his arm, ready to be a support or to restrain. There were people crowding at the edge of his vision, to either intervene or watch, he did not care because Peter was gone- "Men came into our house, assaulted our children and left with Peter! Where the fuck were you? You stupid, stupid man. I left you in charge to watch them, they're children-"

He expected Francis to argue with him, to lash out. Perhaps he even wanted it. But he did nothing, nothing but stare wide eyed at Arthur as though he was speaking nonsense.

"But-" Francis' voice was quiet, lost amidst the noise of the street and only just loud enough for Arthur to hear because of their proximity "I was only gone for an 'our. Nothing could 'ave-"

"Well it did, you fucking stupid git!" Arthur felt like punching him in the face but he resisted with the eyes of his son and Matthew on him, tearfully watching behind him. Rage had filled him up and it was pushing fear and the pain of loss away from his thought, leaving him with the urge to beat the other man to floor. But what would it do? It would not bring Peter back to him, it would not remove his own guilt- "Where were you, Francis?!"

When he met his eyes, finally, it was the first time Arthur had ever seen Francis pull a face so strained and angry. The Frenchman was usually suave and cool in the face of any problem but the façade was starting to break and his blue eyes showed the pain beneath the surface as he hissed out: "I was out."

That was not the answer Arthur was looking for.

"What is that supposed to bloody mean-?!"

"Arthur!" William's tone was a warning and the hand pushing at his shoulder was painful enough for Arthur to drop Francis, or at least shove him away hard enough that the Frenchman stumbled on the pavement before righting himself, abashed.

Looking at him stood there, the man he had shared a home with for many years now, his rival and his sometimes friend, Arthur knew that his anger was misdirected. While he wasn't wrong to feel it, Francis had been left in charge and he had just walked out without considering the consequences, it also wasn't right. He felt mad at himself too, but in the same way that was useless to him. His anger was power and Arthur could feel its thrum through his veins. All he needed to do was direct it at the right source and for the first time since starting his case he knew exactly where to go.

Arthur should have probably said something, but he found his feet had a destination now and he was storming towards the car before anyone could stop him. William had conveniently left the doors open and the key in the ignition.

"Where do you think you're going?!" Of course his brother would have followed him towards the vehicle. Arthur did not appreciate the hand that locked itself onto his arm, halting him in mid stride and brought him around to face his older brother. William had inherited their father's Celtic looks, and his stormy eyes were dark and searching, especially with the light drawing his silhouette from behind. Their old man had been dead for years now but Arthur saw him in William right then.

"Alfred and Mattie need you Arthur. You can't just leave them like this. Get back to the house right now-"

Arthur threw off the arm that was holding him with a sharp glare and a sharper tone in his voice. "I am going to find my son, don't you _dare_ try and stop me."

William's features performed a complex mixture of emotions that passed too quickly for Arthur to identify, to finally settle on disbelief with a hint of understanding.

"Arthur, you can't be seriously considering just walking up to this guy's house-!" _Oh, he would do more than that if he had to._

"I am deadly serious." All that was going through Arthur's head was his little boy, and what Roma's men could be doing to him... no he could not linger on that. _He just had to act quick, he had to find him. _Arthur could not and would not allow any harm to come to him. Some part of him, the policeman he had trained to become, begged for reason much like William's long face and shadowed eyes. But he refused to listen to it.

The case might be jeopardised: his life's work. But none of that mattered. Peter did, he mattered more than anything.

This was not a matter of the case, it was personal and he would sort it out with whatever means he could. And if that involved him blowing his tenuous cover and the case sky high, then he would gladly do it.

But his brother didn't seem convinced, at least until Arthur ground out sharp words through gritted teeth in William's direction.

"He's a child, Will. He's my son."

They made him visibly flinch and for a second Arthur thought that William would not give in to his feelings. But as expected he bowed his head submissively to his emotions; they were family, and his nephew had been taken. William closed his eyes and sighed deeply, taking Arthur's arm again in his hand but this time to give him a comforting squeeze.

"Alright, but I'm driving."

oOo

In the apartment, Lovino's bedroom had always been on the side of the building that faced the street, and when his window was open it was not unusual for the sounds of the road to find their way up into his room. As a child, before all the prohibition laws had come into place, it was not unusual on summer nights for his window to be ajar enough for him to be awoken by the sound of drunks wending their way home in the early hours. Of course, when all the restrictions had come into place all of that stopped and the drunks of a Saturday night found little holes and secret coves to do their business in.

But on the fourth night of his recovery, Lovino was once again awoken by the sound of shouts in the dark.

It was probably his own feverish state that drew him out of his light sleep, but it could have perhaps been the urgency and tone of the shouts below, but in either case he sat up groggily at the noise and looked around his darkened room in sleepy confusion. The sound wasn't even that loud really, the window was closed and the noise was muffled. Antonio had been making an effort to close it each night before he went to bed so that no cold night breeze would not throw his charge back into the sickness and delirium of the days before.

Lovino knew that he was just being silly though. He was still ill because he deserved it.

Antonio had scolded him for such thoughts and demanded that Lovino focus on getting better before they even began to consider the mess that he had got them into.

But he had tried and tried. Even when the nightmares left him alone, Lovino was barred from sleep by the soggy feeling in his bones and the pounding of his head that no medicine seemed to get rid of. He was constantly exhausted, and tonight he would not allow any men shouting outside to stop him from getting his rest.

Lovino rolled over angrily, throwing the pillow over his face in an attempt to stifle out the yelling which, indistinct as it was, seemed to be drawing closer. But his effort was thwarted as a long, draw out creak which sounded through his room.

"_Fratello_," came a whisper from the doorway that seemed louder than it actually was. He inwardly groaned. "Are you awake?"

Lovino sighed loudly into his pillow as Feliciano tip-toed his way into the bedroom. With a look over the top of his heaped blankets, Lovino could see his brother's silhouette poised at the foot of his bed, waiting for a response.

"I wasn't." He grumbled, sitting up because Feliciano would not let him rest now that he knew he was up. The shouting outside was getting really quite loud and other people on the street would surely be waking up from it soon. It was not a surprise that Feliciano had been one of those to wake, he had the sharp ears of a fox when it suited him. Lovino could not make out any words from the noise but he could tell it was _voices _rather than voice, there was more than one at least but the sounds were so jumbled in argument that through the glass it was hard to tell just how many people there were.

"Who _is_ that?" Feliciano whispered, as he moved around the bed to look through the window at the right hand side of Lovino's bed. Lovino could have got up and looked for himself but it was much easier to let his brother relay the information back to him, that way he didn't have to leave the comfort of his warm covers. The street light from outside briefly threw Feliciano's large eyes into relief before he let the curtains fall to return to his brother's side.

"Two men fighting in the street." Came the yawned explanation to the question Lovino had not asked. Feliciano perched, unasked on the side of the bed and checked his forehead, his smile just visible in the shadow of the room. "You feel a lot better, Lovi I think you'll be up and about again in no time and then we can sort things out like you promised."

Lovino was saved from answering when his door once again opened, this time with less of a prolonged creak and more of a short squeak of disapproval as a less welcome individual barged into the room.

"My apologises, Mr Vargas." For some reason Ludwig's hushed apology annoyed him more than if the bodyguard had rudely intruded into his privacy. The bodyguard was wearing a dressing gown and a scowl but his usually immaculate hair was out of place and tousled with sleep. He did not seem impressed.

"Master Feliciano, I must ask you to come away this instant. You are disturbing your brother's rest period and this wandering is cutting into your eight hour allotment. Bed."

Lovino rolled his eyes because it was dark and no one would see him. This guy had such a stick up his ass all the time, did he time in his brother peeing as well? Count up the minutes it took him to get a glass of water? _Good grief..._

His brother whined and flopped on the bed, draping himself over his brother like another blanket even though Lovino kicking his leg out to move him had little effect. _Oh no, not this game_. "But Luddy, I heard a noise..."

Lovino would have throttled him if he had the strength and if the other large man was not in the room. Was his brother seriously playing up his little shit mode at this time of night? _Seriously_?!

Ludwig, though seemed to see through the tricks his brother was trying to play, and to Lovino's slight relief folded his arms imposingly.

"That is no excuse, you know the protocol for that sort of situation is to come straight to me." Was he reading from a textbook?! Lovino's tired mind it seemed, had no filter, especially not for that unwelcome, drill sergeant voice of his. "Any problem you have shall be dealt with by me, as is defined by my job specification. You must come and sleep now, you're bothering your brother."

Lovino wasn't sure how Ludwig could tell in the dark but he was right. Why _were_ they having this discussion in his room anyway?- _And who the hell was that still shouting outside?_

"But what about the men?" Feliciano asked, sitting up with wide eyes.

Ludwig's growl betrayed his annoyance, but the question showed his curiosity. "What men?"

Lovino groaned aloud as the idiot fell for the bait. And when he said Ludwig had fell for the bait, what he really meant was that Ludwig had chased the bait, fallen head first into a pit and then had been rewarded with the bait only to then be eaten as a stupid hulking, bodyguard shaped piece of meat. _Stupid, stupid_! The first thing Lovino had learnt as soon as his brother had got old enough to talk: he was a manipulative little swine, and he enjoyed making vague questions that enticed you in, only to trap you there while he laughed. Ludwig was an idiot and his mistake was going to keep Lovino awake. He threw the pillow over his face in the hope he would pass out from a lack of oxygen and finally sleep.

Feliciano jumped off the bed and skipped to the window in order to open the blinds and show the bodyguard outside, who moved to the window to take a look himself. The noise was admittedly getting louder but that just meant the brawling men were moving their fight closer towards the house. However, as soon as they hit the crossroads they would be able to go on their way- thank god. Until then, he had his little brother and Ludwig _oohing_ and _ahhing_ in his bedroom, could it be any worse-?

The creak of the door answered that for him. _Of course._ Antonio stumbled into the room through the dark, taking a moment to look around at the shadowy figures inside in surprise at how full it was before continuing.

"What's everyone doing in here?"

_Damn and fuck_. "It's a party-"

"We wanted to see who was shouting." Lovino's grumble was overwhelmed by Feliciano's cheerful titter from the window. He waved his hand to the other man eagerly. "Come and see, Antonio! They're really going for it! It's so exciting!"

"_So_ _exciting_!" Lovino mimicked under his breath.

"_Nein_, Feliciano! You should be in bed!" Ludwig scolded, finally turning from the spectacle to glare at the smaller boy. "Now you are too excited to get proper rest. _Opa _will be displeased with me."

"_I'm_ displeased with you. Just go back to _sleep_." Lovino couldn't quite understand how he had faded out of the conversation so much that the others weren't even responding to him anymore, but there it was. Feliciano carried on as if he hadn't even spoken.

"Don't be upset Ludwig! It's just that staying up is fun, and you have to admit, it's kinda exciting even though those scary men are coming to the door-"

"What?!" Lovino, Antonio and Ludwig yelped in sync. Lovino began pushing the coverlets off him so that he could see for himself but Antonio pushed him back into bed, swiftly moving to his side to make sure that he was covered by the blankets again. So he wasn't invisible at least. But that didn't stop him being angry. He would have complained if the Spaniard hadn't placed his hand on Lovino's shoulder and spoke to his co-worker.

"Ludwig?" The blond had moved back to the window to look outside, his square jaw clenched tightly.

"They _are _moving to the door."

Lovino skidded around Antonio's lax hold and was two steps from his bed before a pair of arms grabbed him around the middle to hold him in place. He struggled even more when the voice behind him wasn't quite who he was expecting.

"What should we do? The Master isn't in the house." Ludwig voiced with worry as Lovino struggled against the firm grip he was under. The German was indeed as strong as he looked.

"When Grandpa's not in the house Lovi is in charge." Feliciano practically sang as he moved past them, Lovino saw him heading for the door. "But since you two have stopped him then I'll go-"

"No!" Lovino and Ludwig yelled at the same time. The bodyguard released him and darted forward to grab Feliciano at the same time that Lovino himself moved forward to get to the door, only to be intercepted by Antonio. The four of them met in the bedroom doorway and a scuffle developed which was paused when there came a pounding from the front door and Lovino had to cough into his hand as his chest had been squashed by the group, Antonio and Feliciano hovering by his elbows in case he needed help. He batted them off irritably.

"Antonio?" Ludwig asked. He seemed the most unsure out of the four of them and Lovino could image him considering all the rules that would be broken: letting the boys up, answering the door even though it wasn't his position, of course there was no rules about letting angry strangers into the apartment but Lovino was sure there was something holding back the blond's curiosity. He had always been a bit of a kiss ass but since he had officially become Feliciano's bodyguard he did not seem to be taking the position lightly.

Although why he was looking to Antonio for orders when he was new to the house was a mystery: perhaps it was because he was older and authoritative, especially with that dark look on his face as the pounding on the door continued.

"I'll go-"

"No, you won't!" Lovino had found his voice again and the others finally seemed to listen to him. "Feliciano's right, this is my house when Grandpa is out and I will decide what to do with these people-"

"And as your bodyguard I will decide if it is safe or not!" Antonio was not the sort of man to raise his voice or sound frustrated but he was verging on it. Even in the dark Lovino could catch his features morphed into a scowl. "These could be anyone! What if they've been sent to kill you-?"

"I _hardly_ think they would knock on the door like they're trying to break it down. I am going to answer them."

"You are ill and you're staying _here_-"

"Make me!" Lovino did not feel up to grappling with Antonio but he would not go down without a fight, damn him. Luckily he did not need to, as Ludwig stepped between them lightly.

"We should decide something before they wake up Miss Elizabeta and force her from her bed. She shouldn't really be up and about in her condition."

"A good point," Antonio agreed before Lovino could speak, making him narrow his eyes in annoyance- he could speak for himself. "You grab Feliciano and-"

Antonio paused just as Ludwig tensed and Lovino realised- that _little_-!

"Feli!" Despite his illness he moved with purpose out of the room and to the stairs, running down them so fast he almost slipped and fell right into his little brother who made a whine of complaint and shock. They were almost at the foot of the stairs so their little tumble didn't hurt much, but Lovino's chest did from the running. His head swam a little too, his vision sloshed from side to side. He really should not have been out of bed.

"Don't do that!" He scolded his brother, holding onto the arm he had just grabbed in order to break both of their falls. Somewhere behind them the bodyguards switched on the lights.

"Do what?" Feliciano asked innocently as the two bodyguards caught up to them. The banging on the door and the shouting was much louder now that they were in the entrance hall, it seemed to bounce around under the high ceiling. The two voices were largely incoherent but now that he was closer there was something Lovino found familiar about them that he could not place.

Of course now there was the problem as to who would answer the door. Feliciano had been eager, but now he, like Lovino, was hanging back from the fury in the tone of the main shouter. The other voice could only be heard occasionally over the main voice, in what seemed an attempt to calm him.

"_Vargas, you open this door- you open it now_!"

"The neighbours are going to furious with this racket." Ludwig muttered, storming past the brothers to open the door without further delay. There was a shocked pause as the strangers stared up at Ludwig's hulking figure, stared into the hall and then-

"Where is_ he_-?!"

One of the men darted forward. He bypassed Ludwig, pushed Feliciano out of way and had Lovino by the shirt front before anyone could stop him. Lovino was aware of the others shouting something but he was more drawn in by the angry, panic stricken eyes that had locked onto his own. Their emotion knocked the breath right out of him in shock.

"Where is he, what have you done with him-!?" Arthur Kirkland was about his height, but the way in which he had grabbed Lovino made him feel like he was a foot taller, looking down on the other man who seems on his last legs. The appearance of the officer stunned him into such a stupor he was wasn't even paying attention to his surroundings, so much so that Antonio's lurching to push away other man almost sent Lovino tumbling to the floor as well. Feliciano clung to his arm and asked him tearfully whether he was okay but all he could manage was a nod in return.

_How was Arthur even here? Why?_

"Where is he?- let me _go_!" The other man who had been with Arthur had rushed into the lobby and grabbed him from behind in an arm lock, and good timing because Antonio and Ludwig had moved in looking ready to throw them both onto the street. Arthur was spitting in rage as he snapped at the other man. "William, unhand me or I swear-"

"Who are you?" Of course Ludwig and Antonio had no idea who these strange men were and this information was at the top of their agenda. Lovino found himself staring intently at the police officer though, his mind slowly starting to realise what exactly he was really seeing. The man in charge of the case against his grandfather was in his house. Surely this was wrong, he shouldn't be in the house screaming. Who was this _he_ Arthur was talking about?

What had happened?

"Who I am is none of your business, kraut." Ludwig flinched at Arthur's the pure venom in Arthur's words. While it might have been true that his accent was not as strong as it had been when he had first arrived in America, it was also true that his homeland had never truly left him and it was sometimes possible to hear the Germanic inflections in his tone.

That was no reason to target him like that though.

"Watch your mouth in this house." Lovino did not overly like the guy but he found himself sticking up for Ludwig. His throat sounded sore and tired as he tried to raise it above the struggling pair who froze to look at him. The stranger, William, widened his eyes as he looked at him but said nothing. Lovino would have perhaps walked forward to save his voice if Feliciano hadn't still been clinging onto his arm. "You've already woken us all up and assaulted me, you would perhaps do better to watch your tongue. Unless of course if you would like us to call the police."

There was a long pause where Arthur stared him out. The last time Lovino had seen Arthur it had been the day at the church, he had looked so confident in himself then, so assured in the case. Now he looked angry and, above all, scared. It was a surprising mix and even more surprising when he next spoke.

"If you don't want a scene," Arthur's words inched out through a locked jaw. It seemed to pain him to remain polite. "Then you give him back to me now."

"Give who back to you?" Lovino could feel the eyes of the room fixed on him, all apart from Antonio who was watching Arthur with enough of his body angled between them for him to be able to block any attack. Although, it was unlikely there would be one on Arthur's part. He was well and truly captured by this William character.

They were all taken back when Arthur laughed slightly. It was not a healthy laugh, but rather the noise at the man at the end of his tether. "Don't _play around_ with me boy, you clearly know what's going on so don't mess around-"

"Arthur, we should leave, this was a mistake-" William's whisper into the officer's ear did not go unnoticed by the household, but it was certainly not taken well by Arthur who began thrashing to free himself.

"He is a liar: he knows! He _knows_! He practically lives in his grandfather's pocket and if you expect me to believe that-"

Lovino wasn't sure why the insinuation offended him but he held back his tide of anger with a swallow, holding up a hand to stop Antonio who had moved forward as if he was going to throw out both men with his bare hands. A muscle at the side of the bodyguard's jaw was so tense it stuck out like a swollen vein.

Instead he walked forward slowly and with dignity, his brother tailing him from behind. His legs were still weak and the steady pace he used was not intentional but still, impressive. It made the men pause and allow him to speak as he moved to stand between Ludwig and Antonio so they flanked him on both sides.

"I am not sure what it is you think I know, but you are wrong. I have no idea what you're talking about, I'm sorry." He was managing his temper quite well, just as he'd been taught. Frustration at a little brother and an annoying pair of goons for bodyguards was one thing: they were family and not a part of the wider community. But to everyone else he had been taught to keep a distance, remain aloof, and when angered; use it to channel his thoughts rather than lash out. It was difficult being so naturally hot headed but years of instruction helped him keep a calm face even though his hands balled at his sides in fury.

Arthur seemed to measure him up, noted the truth in his gaze and visibly sagged backwards in the other man's arms. The sob that shook his frame took Lovino aback though. "Then where _is_ he?"

He shouldn't have asked, he shouldn't get too deep but Arthur was clearly upset and he was the father of his friend. A horrible thought struck Lovino- Alfred? Could he possibly mean-?

The blood left his face. "Who-?"

"Peter!" It was even worse. The youngest of the three brothers with the buck teeth and cheeky smile who had waved Lovino goodbye at the dinner party and had seemed happy to welcome Lovino back into their home. The news struck him with a shock through his whole system. Peter was missing- taken? What-?

William seemed to take pity on his confusion and quickly explained. "Men with guns came into our home while we were out and took him."

"By force, or-?" He left the sentence hanging and ignored the strange looks that he was receiving off the others, instead choosing to keep his eyes on Arthur who looked like a broken man. His eyes had a distant look to them and he was no longer struggling to be free, but rather he was hanging limp in the other man's grasp.

What Lovino had really wanted to ask was whether the other boys were okay. If there had been force then they could have been hurt, even killed. There were guns involved after all. He wasn't sure if William understood that or whether his question had just been too vague but he seemed to grasp his meaning in the end.

"They had guns, of course it was by force." His heart flew into his mouth- "But luckily no one was hurt too badly, Peter's brothers are bruised and battered but alive."

"Oh thank god." Lovino breathed out. Alfred and Matthew were good young men and would grow up to be great ones. They were not meant to be hurt by unknown gunmen.

Speaking of which, who were _they_? Why were they attacking the Kirkland house? They had no money or valuables, any robber would know in advance there was nothing of worth in the shop and in any case why take the kid? No, this was deliberate. They had meant to take Peter which was why the others were alive to tell the tale.

Of course there was only one man who would think of doing such a thing: Roma. His grandfather had promised to get back at the police and ward them off. What way could be better than taking away his youngest son to Lord only knows where? But no, that was so _wrong_.

Feliciano drew his attention by tugging on his sleeve with wide eyes.

"Lovino, do you know these men?"

Oh no, now he was on the spot. Perhaps he shouldn't have spoken so freely but his worries had just slipped out. He had promised to be more honest with his brother but it was hard to suddenly admit the truth he had not told anyone.

After all this was his fault wasn't it? If Lovino hadn't have opened his mouth in a moment of misplaced trust then the police wouldn't be closer to catching up with his grandfather. Which meant that to an extent the attack on the ice cream shop was also his fault.

Lovino swallowed against the realisation. Of course it was his fault, the whole damn mess was his fault. If he'd have kept his mouth shut then none of this would have happened. If he'd have sorted out the Russian problem as soon as it arose then Peter would be safe at home in bed. But now he was taken away from his family. What if he was hurt, or worse?

He could not allow Peter to be another Roderich. He had made his mistakes it was time to learn from them.

"What's going on here? Who are you?"

The voice was soft but it cut through the room making everyone's head turn in the direction of the doorway which had been left open to show the street beyond. There framed in the doorway was his Grandfather, dressed in a dark blue suit that mirrored the vast openness of the night sky beyond the city. Viktor was stood stoutly by his shoulder and both of them surveyed the scene with confusion, and in the bodyguard's case wary concern.

Lovino's heart practically stopped but that was cast from his mind as Arthur once again sprung like a lion going for the kill. This time his companion had him in a firm enough grasp that he did not get away but he still managed to make Roma back away in shock and Viktor reach in his coat pocket for the gun that was obviously concealed there.

"YOU!" Arthur seemed beyond any other words as he fought to be freed. William had a vice like grip on him for sure because he wasn't getting anywhere, although the pained expression on his face seemed to suggest that it was taxing.

His grandfather had recovered quickly from the threat of assault and was instead looking at the man in front of him in disgust.

"Do I know you?" Roma looked the odd pair in front of him up and down, his lips curling in distaste. Lovino found himself moving back away from the conversation on instinct, Feliciano clinging to his arm. Antonio and Ludwig had shifted to stand in front of them like an impenetrable wall.

Arthur didn't answer but instead turned his head and spat in Roma's direction. It landed on the tiles at his feet and for a moment Roma just looked down at it, holding up a hand so that Viktor would not run in and intervene. The stare he kept on Arthur was intent and watchful.

"I have met you before then, I believe." He commented lightly. Arthur snarled in response.

"Me? Never. Our brother on the other hand you might recall." Lovino did a double take. Brother? What was he talking about?

His grandfather's eyes were still intent but he could see the cogs and gears working behind his eyes as he attempted to remember who it was Arthur was talking about. When the machinery slotted into place it was almost as if the clarity came back into him and he smiled.

Then, he laughed. Roma stood in the doorway of his own home with only a pale shadow of a man as his support in the face of an angry and hurt man, and he laughed. The noise cut through the room like a chill wind, bounced off the marble floor.

"Oh, I think I do remember. It has been so long." He mused. "What was that young man's name now? Ryan-?"

"Rhys," snapped William. He didn't seem to be loosening his hold but his facial features looked as if he was contemplating it. So William and Arthur were brothers, Lovino could see it now in the mirrored looks of loathing as they looked at his grandfather.

"That was the one."

"That was the one you had killed, you mean." Arthur hissed. "And now you've taken my son-"

"What?" Roma snapped, moving forward suddenly with Viktor trailing behind. There was a threatening tone to his voice. "Perhaps my English is not so good but I thought you were accusing me-"

"Fuck accusing you, try stating the obvious." Arthur was burying himself into a deep grave and he didn't seem to care. Lovino was feeling very cautious about Viktor and his gun, the officer really needed to keep his mouth shut for his own sake. _This was all going so badly_- "And it's Arthur. Arthur Kirkland- the man that's going to lock you in jail and watch you rot, you son of a bitch."

The realisation hit his grandfather square in the face at the same time Feliciano gasped and Viktor looked scandalized. There was a terrible pause as the colour rose in Roma's face and his hands began to tremble. Lovino took another step back and this time dragged his brother with him because he knew what was going to happen, even before Viktor's mumble for his boss to calm down-

"How dare you enter my home? How dare you accuse me of these things, in front of my family and servants?!" His grandfather did not usually yell but now he was advancing on the officer despite his bodyguard trying to hold him back. William tried to drag Arthur away but he struggled as his own features were inflamed with the same fury as well. "I should report you to your seniors. You have no _right_ to come here!"

Roma had reached Arthur and the two men squared up to each other. The officer might have been a good foot smaller but he did not seem to care that the older man could topple him over easily. Like wild animals they got into each other's faces, only stopped from a true attack by the men holding them back. Feliciano shivered against Lovino's arm and huddled closer.

"I have the right of the city and the law on my side," Arthur argued with force behind his words. His eyes, which had been struck with fear and anger when he had first come into the room, were suddenly so focused it was if the fight had awoken in him some store of energy. "If I could get hold of concrete proof I would already have you were I want you. But you're a _coward_-"

"Coward? _Coward_?!" Roma roared, shaking of Viktor who had tried to grab the arm that he had begun to wave threateningly through the air. Feliciano whimpered. "What man are you to call me a coward-?"

"A man in the right!" Arthur yelled. "You are a coward because you think only of your own safety. You don't care about anyone else. Enough to think that stealing a little boy is within your rights-"

"Well perhaps you should take better care of what is yours then, _signore_."

Arthur lunged at Roma. Feliciano cried out and Lovino felt his feet moving forward of their own accord until he was stopped by Antonio who threw an arm out to stop him. Arthur was swearing and his Grandfather was yelling in rapid Italian that in the confusion, Lovino's mind refused to translate. William was attempting to get Arthur to the door.

"We are leaving- _leaving_!" He was shouting intently into his brother's ear. "The case, Arthur!"

But he was no listening to reason. He was struggling and shouting, but there were tears on his cheeks that caught the light from outside, ghosting silver trails on his face.

"No..." Lovino found himself whispering as he grabbed onto Feliciano with one hand and Antonio with the other. A mad urge to run to Arthur and stand by him was rising in him, because he did not have to choose sides in this: stealing children was wrong whatever the case. What had his Grandpa been thinking? Maybe if he'd have denied it Lovino would have thought differently, but his lack of refusal and now his anger showed his guilt.

Children were off limits. He had broken his own code and what was Lovino meant to do now? He didn't know what was right, but he could tell for certain that this was _wrong_.

Feliciano returned the pressure onto his hand and watched the rest of the scene with tearful eyes. William had got Arthur to the steps. Roma was yelling out of the door with threats in English and Italian as Viktor and Ludwig attempted to both control the master of the house and remove the strangers. Antonio on the other hand, had his eyes fixed on Lovino as if asking him what he wanted him to do.

If only he had an answer.

"If you come back here again, you are a dead man, Kirkland!" Roma swore. "You hear me, dead! I don't care who you are with, but without proper backing and a warrant don't you dare enter this building again. I don't know how you found us, but you will forget us if you know what's good for you, do you hear me?"

Arthur was persistent on the steps but suddenly he froze and opened his mouth to reply. Lovino saw what was coming. Without thinking he dropped his hold on Antonio and Feliciano and hurried forward to stand at his Grandpa's elbow. Both Kirkland's saw the movement.

He locked eyes with Arthur and tried to express his need for him to shut his mouth. If Roma knew about how it had been his mistakes that had brought the officers there, then in his current mood Lovino would not go unpunished, no matter how ill he was.

He couldn't tell him.

It was only a split second, perhaps more, but Arthur took him in. Lovino could see the fear was still in his eyes, the worry for his little boy proving too strong an emotion to hide even behind anger. It made his own stomach bubble in shame because it was his fault that all this had happened: but looking into those eyes as he had looked into Roderich's-

He would not let it happen again. Roderich had been his lifelong friend and had deserved more than his lot. That shame would never leave Lovino, and neither would the nightmares that had plagued him but still he could not allow the events of the past few days to repeat themselves. he would carry the burden for the rest of his life and try to change things. Lovino would help: and somewhere in the back on his still fevered mind, ghostly lips obscured behind blood and rain smiled.

But to help he needed to be well. And to be well, his grandfather could _not_ find out.

Perhaps it was in the set of his face, or the way his knees knocked together where he stood. It might have even been the curious glare Roma had shot him but Arthur shut his mouth. Officer Kirkland looked torn but he pinched his lips together tightly and then shook his head, allowing himself to be taken down the rest of the steps under his brother's guidance and Viktor's watchful eye.

"Watch yourself Vargas!" Although he had to have the last word. Arthur shouted up as they reached the pavement below. Lovino could just hear him over the distance, his heart pounding in his chest with the near escape. "Better keep an eye on your little castle of cards because I will knock them down soon enough. If you want to stop me, you will have to kill me first!"

"Then I take that as a challenge!" Roma returned, signalling for door should be shut, which Viktor complied to with enough force to shake the windows in the towering entrance hall as if they would clatter out of their frames and onto the floor.

Lovino stared at the wooden panel of the door and felt just as fragile, and easily as breakable.

oOo

**Thank goodness this is over. Sorry it takes me so long to update folks but final year of uni has been hectic. Hopefully I will be able to update before the new year!**

**Feel free to drop me a review, even if it is only to nag me to hurry up! Hope you enjoyed it!**


	36. The Round Table

**So yeah, I didn't update when I planned. I had my birthday and work on, sorry everyone!**

**Welcome and thank you to the new followers and reviewers as always. Sorry it took so long to get this up! Enjoy! (my Beta and I have referred to this as the slanket chapter. Please note: there were no slankets in the 20s)**

**Disclaimer- Hetalia characters are not mine!**

oOo

After Arthur had been driven away by William and everyone in the house had calmed down enough to go back to bed, Lovino had returned to his bedroom but he found it impossible to rest. Even when Arthur's shouts were no more and a semi silence had fallen upon the house, broken only by his Grandfather in the room above as he stormed and raved to Viktor, he found he could not sleep. The thud of his grandpa's feet and the muffled voices were not enough to keep him awake, but rather it was the sound of his own thoughts. Lovino had at first lain in bed, but he had not closed his eyes, and was instead left staring at the darkened ceiling where the silhouette of his window was lit. Despite the new information that crowded his thoughts and demanded his attention, Lovino's mind with suddenly quite clear with understanding.

There was irrevocably no way to turn back time and remove himself from the mess he was in. Lovino knew that he could easily dart from one blame to another, just as his fevered mind had been doing for the past few days, but that would not remove the fact that all of these things_ had_ happened. Their affect was therefore still in place because life did not stop when one tragedy befell someone, no matter how much you wished it to. His illness had made things stand still for a while, but Arthur's surprise visit had made Lovino realised one of two things.

One: Lovino could not lull himself further with the idea that everything would stop while he got his head together. At some point he would have to address the darkened cloud of thought that threatened to overcome him in guilt should he so be immersed in it, sooner rather than later. Life, this life in particular, demanded his full attention and he could not waste away in his sickness and self loathing. There were things he had done that needed to be moved on from, and above all, fixed.

This lead him onto his second realisation: his Grandfather had really gone too far this time.

The kidnap of Peter was the main problem that weighed heavily on Lovino's mind. Of course, it was Lovino's own involvement that had put Alfred's family in danger, this he knew and was more than willing to accept. But still, he could not understand what had moved his grandfather to take such a direction to ward off the police. For one, it was highly dangerous plan for the family, what with the boy being the son of a police officer. It was one thing stealing the son of a rich man for example, but a police officer had the means and the right of the law to find and arrest the individuals who had made such a personal assault on him. Arthur had made a mistake in terms of the case by coming to the house but that lapse of judgement would be short lived. Lovino knew that as soon as his head was clearer in the morning the detective would be out on the case and even the streets looking for his little boy because he was that kind of a man. Of course, his grandfather would have thought of that and would have moved Peter somewhere safe, but the point remained it was a wild tactic.

Lovino swung his legs clear of the bed and sat up. There would be no more sleep tonight and his foot twitched impatiently. Without a sound he eased himself from his bed and stood facing his room, and in the dark he made out his own tired reflection in the mirror. His eyes were wide and disturbed.

And Lovino knew the cause. He had learnt the art of the business at his grandfather's hand since he was five years old, and he knew the ins and outs, the dos and don'ts better than anyone. Roma had always encouraged action, but not without its limits. Women, children, they were untouchable and sacred: _always go after the head male, _he was taught, _with him, you remove the king and the whole game ends._ How did taking a little boy that had done nothing to harm the family fit this scheme? Especially when his father was merely a nuisance and should have been taken care of in a more respectable way. The bribe had not worked, but something else would and besides they hid their affairs thoroughly, there was no loose threads that the police could pick up on to bring his grandfather in.

His reflection bit its lip and he turned away from it to sit in the armchair by the window. He usually used the spot for reading, but in the past few days Antonio had taken up the seat to keep Lovino company in his sick bed. There was something littered on the seat and his brushed it off absent-mindedly before sitting down.

The current situation with the family was out of order. It was one thing for Roma to demand the death of a man who was suspected (and rightly so), to be ratting out the family, but another to involve and maybe even destroy an innocent life. The circumstances surrounding Roderich's death irked him, but Peter's kidnap had been the turning point in Lovino's mind. It was not what he had been brought up to believe was right. The family was a business and they worked unconventionally, but always brushing the line of wrong and _never_ crossing it. Lovino had always felt relatively safe in the knowledge that when he took over the business, he would not be expected to act in a way that would go against his conscience.

In the past few days his Grandpa had changed all that and thrown him and the rest of them over the razor edge they had all been dancing on.

Lovino did not like it. Normally he would agree. Normally he would bow his head and smile and say 'yes _Nonno_', but not now. Now he found himself confused at what to think. All he knew was that this should not have happened to Peter and it definitely should not have happened to Roderich.

The butler had deserved more respect and kindness than he had received at the hands of the family. He should have been spoken to first; he should have never been afraid to come forward in the first place. He had good reasons to rat them out, or at least he did in his head. Instead he had been stolen away, beaten and shot where he could not run, without help and without any final rights. Animals on the street were given more mercy than Roma had allowed a man who had lived under their roof for most of his short life. Roderich had a family with them, he was part of them. To remove him in such a way was an action Lovino would never live with and thinking about it made his head spin and his stomach churn but the more he thought, the more he knew that it had all been so wrong. And now only more things wrong were happening.

He was at a loss. Lovino paused in his musing and looked up and through his bedroom window, out onto the cold grey light of the street as the sun had begun to rise over the darkened city. It would be another fine day. He knew that in some parts of the city, people were already starting to rise from their beds to earn their daily bread. Some of them were under the thumb of his grandfather. Somewhere out there was Arthur and his grieving family, and maybe a few blocks over the Russian group who killed his parents and tried to kill him and his brother would be sleeping. And perhaps across the river or even further away there would be the house, shack or apartment which would be housing a small, terrified little boy, so very far away from home.

Lovino felt insignificant against the sheer vastness of it all. How could he affect any of what was going on right now? He worried at his thumb nail with his teeth. Roma had made it very clear at the party that Lovino's opinion was not valued when it strayed from his own. His grandfather was quiet now upstairs, but Lovino could almost sense his anger still radiating through the floorboards. Speak to him on a reasonable level? On equal terms? His grandfather had never been a reasonable man; he was a man of force and action. Neither were the two equal. He had a way with words that confused Lovino and made him think things he perhaps shouldn't. Trying to talk him out of this madness would be akin to talking to a wall for all the good it would do. No, he had to think of another way to deal with this.

Of course, any action he could take would therefore be against his Grandfather's wishes and that was what scared him more than anything else.

Lovino knew that the fury he would encounter if Roma found out about these _thoughts_, never mind the actions he might take, would be beyond anything he would have ever experienced at his hands. If voicing his opinion got him pinned to a wall or smacked around the head what would happen if he was seen to be going _against _him? Because that's of course was what it would be.

Was Lovino ready to take such a step?

Was his grandfather even all that bad?

He had made some bad decisions, granted, but they were mistakes. Didn't he know his own business better than him? What right did _he_ have to speak out? Roma was his grandfather after all, his _Nonno_, the only parental figure he had ever truly known. There was once a time he had believed the older man could do nothing wrong but now... now he wasn't all that sure.

He felt almost adrift in this knowledge. Who could he to rely on now?

Himself, of course, and his conscience. He could not ignore it, no matter how hard he tried. The more he thought of the immorality of his Grandpa's actions, against others, against God, the more Lovino knew that something had to be done. He could not possibly stand back and watch this happen. He loved his Grandfather, but had to do what he deemed to be right. He had to set an example for his little brother. Lovino had seen the way Feliciano had looked between Arthur and Roma in a mixture of fear and confusion. His little brother had not bypassed the stage of hero worship that Lovino knew in his heart he had stopped feeling long ago, so Lovino as the older brother had to take the first steps. Roma was in the wrong, and Lovino had to be in the right for the sake of the family. To do that he would have to go against his grandfather to fix the mistakes he himself had made.

He was lucky now that Feliciano was on his side, it would make things a lot easier although he did not feel comfortable knowing he was making his brother ultimately chose between them. It would have to be a thing they discussed when they had a free house. There was no way he could risk any dangerous ears listening in at the doors after all, or else things could go badly before they had even begun. But he needed to make Feliciano understand the gravity of his own actions.

Lovino barely noticed how the cold light of the dawn had brightened into the warm glow of a summer morning, instead he was more struck with the change in his heart and his head. He felt clearer than he had done in days, and the nightmares were kept at bay. He was still weak, his body felt drained and shaky, and his mind even more so. In many ways he doubted his own resolve.

_Could he really do this_?

He did not hear the door open behind him, but Lovino did heard the click as it closed shut on its hinges. He turned his head slightly in the direction of the noise to find Antonio, already dressed for the day and watching him with one hand on the door handle. His dark hair was swept back and curling over his ears and the simple shirt he wore was well fitted. Visually he was a very different man from the poor guy Lovino had first met on the street, but he knew that underneath the fine clothing he was still the same honest guy he had gotten to know and love. The sight of the Spaniard in the doorway was somehow not surprising, as if he had expected him to be there all along like this meeting had been planned between them at an earlier date.

Lovino knew he must have made a strange sight sat up in his pyjamas and staring out of the window, but the other man had seen him worse. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table.

"You're early." He noted quietly. It was barely 6am, usually Antonio wasn't in his room until well past 8am, but then again he was never up this early either. Neither of them spoke for a few moments and the only sound in the room was the distant noises of the street and the vendors a block over opening their shutters to start off the day.

"You've been up all night." Antonio noted from the doorway without moving. Lovino could practically taste the disappointment on his tongue and he had to resist rolling his eyes.

"Only a few hours, it was morning when we went back to sleep." He argued lightly even though he was starting to feel sleepy now. His body was used to a lot more rest than it was getting and it must have shown for the bodyguard to pick it out across the room. Lovino kept his voice low because it was early and he didn't need his brother, or worse his grandfather, hearing their conversation. And besides, his throat still felt like sandpaper. "Don't fuss, and don't just stand by the door you dummy. If you're coming in get your ass over here. I'm not raising my voice across the damn room."

Antonio chuckled and finally wandered closer. He took a seat across from him as he was told, perching uncomfortably on the window ledge to face Lovino directly. The Spaniard's eyes were tired from the night before and he looked almost deflated. Lovino didn't like it, Antonio was always so cheerful it was almost painful to see him looking so warn down. _They definitely needed to talk_.

But Lovino wasn't sure where to start. He needed to begin with the easier stuff, but there wasn't really anything _easy_ to say. Lovino knew he wanted to talk and sort out things between the two of them but where to begin or what to even cover was a problem. There were some things he could not say, stuff that shifted around in the murk of his mind which he could not quite shed light on just yet. It wasn't because it was Antonio, because it was easy to talk to the other man freely, but rather his own inhibitions holding him back.

"I should really apologise to you." Lovino started in a murmur, breaking the silence that had formed between them. He met Antonio's eyes rather than avoiding them because for once in his life he was being sincere and he needed to make that clear. "I doubt this job has been what you thought it would be when you took it up, I'm sorry."

"I knew it would be difficult." Antonio replied with the faintest hint of a shrug, the smile leaking back onto his face slightly and warming his features. "But perhaps not _this_ difficult. You have not made the task of guarding you easy, S_ir_."

Lovino snorted slightly. It had been a long time since he had insisted on being called that. It was only a few weeks but, God, how things had changed_._

"It's not just that." Lovino continued. He was struck with how easy it was to say what he was saying, usually Lovino would have kept his mouth shut tight but his musings had cleared his head more than he thought. He knew that he no longer saw Antonio as a hindrance, but rather as a friend and that was a big leap for him.

"I should apologise to you for everything you have endured in this damn place. I'm sorry I never really thanked you for saving my worthless ass in the first place and I'm sorry about the mess I've made now. It wasn't fair of me to put this on you, it's not your job, so thank you for sticking around. It might sound strange, but you have helped make things very clear to me. Everything has changed now."

Antonio's eyebrows lowered in confusion and the slightest hint of worry. A pause.

"It sounds like you're trying to dismiss me." The Spaniard seemed to struggle around the words as if they were razors in his mouth. His expression was almost pained.

It was Lovino's turn to shrug lightly, brushing off the expression by looking over Antonio's shoulder and back out onto the city. "Maybe I am. Maybe I think you deserve the chance to get out of this mess before everything turns poisonous around us. You saw what happened last night, you know what I've done. People are dead. I'm surprised you can even think of staying. Any sane man would have run a mile now. You should get out while you can, forget the money-"

"It's not about the money." Antonio's interruption startled him enough to look up and meet the intense gaze the other man sent his way. There was a stubborn set to his features that made Lovino frustrated. He knew that things would be easier if Antonio left, it would be one less body to worry about, but he had to admit that he needed the man. He was frustrated with his own need, and frustrated with Antonio for wanting to stay like an idiot. _What if he got hurt of worse_? Lovino doubted his already heavy conscience could handle the weight of one so dear to him.

_Dear_ to him? Lovino had to blink in confusion at the thought. _When had Antonio moved to close enough to be dear to him_? But some small part of him knew it was true, Lovino couldn't imagine a life without him in it now. The guy was his rock in the tide of madness, always constant and cheerful. Feliciano had been that rock, but now? He was growing up and becoming his own man leaving Lovino behind. He had not noticed the dependency he had placed in the bodyguard before now, but even thinking about Antonio leaving was making him feel quite upset. It was both a physical need for his closeness and a mental want of the reassurance and strength that he himself lacked.

Antonio's insistence that it wasn't the money was confusing though, because if he was the Spaniard that would be the only positive to working for the Vargas family. All he had from them was grief.

"Then what is it keeping you here?" Lovino whispered, pulling up his weak body in the chair to properly talk to Antonio and push off the invasive thoughts. He thought he saw Antonio shuffle uncomfortably under his gaze but he didn't relent. He would have his answer. "There are thousands of jobs in this city if you look, and none of them would be as dangerous or maddening as this one. There must be something keeping you here. If it's not the money then it's clearly not my charm or the stress free living conditions." The bastard had the audacity to laugh and Lovino blushed deeply at the tone.

"I'm being serious, Antonio. I don't think I'll be able to give you the opportunity to leave again, not after today. I'm giving you a way out, take it."

That shut him up. It was forced, but Antonio smiled pleasantly as if they were sat discussing the weather.

"If you can't figure it out, I'm not going to explain it to you, Lovi." He retorted. Lovino wanted to chase the argument, but he was tired and confused and the day was still ahead of them. In the pause where Lovino stared indecisively at him, Antonio leaned in and looked closer at Lovino's face with growing concern. "You really haven't slept have you? You look terrible."

And they were back on his health: his least favourite topic at the moment. He couldn't spare any time to worry about himself when there were things to do, but then again he did need his strength! Such a bother. He threw himself back on his chair and huffed.

"Thanks for the diagnosis, Dr Carriedo." Lovino sighed, ignoring the pouting lips before him at his own blatant disregard for his health. "But I couldn't sleep without sorting out my head. These things needed to be dealt with once and for all; I can't leave things as they are. We need to fix them and make things right again, or at least try."

"We?"

"You, me, Feliciano..." Lovino trailed off, part of him hopeful that Antonio was taking his offer and fleeing, the other half rattling the cage doors and screeching to stop him. He tried to gauge the Spaniard's features before testing, "that is of course if you're going to stay?"

But to his heart's delight, Antonio grinned. "How am I meant to protect you if I'm not here? I promised Lovi, right when we first met I promised I would stay and help you. I won't go back on my word. You'll have my assistance with anything, just ask. We'll sort something out, don't worry too much- but first, breakfast. You look dead on your feet and I am not having you ill again."

_When did you become my mother? _He wanted to grumble, but instead he pulled a face so irritated it made the other man laugh gently as he stood up. The conversation was clearly over and done with: Lovino had done his part and _still_ Antonio was staying for whatever mad reason he had. He had seemed so certain, and yet as the bodyguard moved past his seat his eyes were troubled. Lovino found his arm jumping out and grabbing the end of his sleeve, forcing the other man to stop in his tracks. Lovino didn't look at him but he could feel Antonio's gaze bare down on him in confusion.

There were a thousand things he wanted to say.

"I mean it..." He wanted to thank him for all the times he had put up with the rubbish Lovino spouted, for being understanding towards Feliciano and caring towards everyone else. He wanted to thank him even more for not hating him for what he had done and sticking by him. It seemed important to tell him now that he knew he was going to stay. But instead all he could manage was, "You saved my life. I can never repay you enough, I'm so sorry for-"

The hand that gripped his shoulder was warm and light, as was the smile that drew his eye.

"You can repay me by eating something, _cariño_." Antonio chuckled. Lovino stared up at him and he back down, neither of them letting go of the other until Lovino realised how stupid he must look with a hand on his arm like that. He released him and after a pause Antonio hurried off for breakfast, leaving Lovino once again with his jumbled thoughts.

oOo

Breakfast had been brought and eaten quietly, the two of them finding it awkward to speak after all that had been said. The silence was only interrupted with Antonio's agreement in Lovino's insistence that any conversation regarding future plans needed to take place in a free house. He seemed happy to wait for the opportunity and Lovino was happy to prepare himself in the meantime.

He had eaten his meal and had been dozing in his seat, perhaps closer to sleep than he thought when Feliciano had rushed into his room with a crash of the door hitting the wall and demanded an audience with his brother. Antonio had not said a word but his look of disapproval as he moved out of his way spoke volumes. Lovino had sat up and blinked stupidly at his brother's earnest features before letting the information that his brother was babbling sink in. The younger boy had been downstairs eating breakfast when he had seen their Grandpa leave, he had of course questioned him and got a response. Apparently Roma was out all day on some sort of errand across town. He'd taken Viktor and Heracles but Eliza had also taken the lift in order to visit Roderich's grave. Feliciano added that he had still seemed annoyed, but he was a lot calmer looking after a night of rest. Roma and his entourage had gone, and as soon as the latch had clicked shut behind their Grandfather's back, Feliciano had rushed up to Lovino's room. Lovino had not heard them leave and neither had his Grandfather informed him of the trip, he had been dozing and a look in Antonio's direction saw him looking guilty. Roma had obviously visited while he had been out and Antonio had not woken him. It didn't matter. He didn't know where the older man had gone, but he was gone which was the main thing. They had their free house and there was no telling when they would get it again.

Feliciano had wanted to have the chat right there and then in Lovino's bedroom, but he rejected the idea even as it formed. Lovino would not discuss any of his actions in his bedroom where the front door could not be heard clearly, practically bed-ridden or not.

Antonio made to complain when he realised what his charge wanted, but Lovino had demanded to be moved downstairs regardless. He could walk on his own albeit slowly, it just took another pair of hands to help with the blanket he threw over his lap and the pillow he used for his back. He was still ill after all and his tender chest from coughing none stop needed a bit of support. He was still cold too even though it was warm in the house: or so he guessed by looking at everyone their loose shirts and bottoms.

It probably would have been easier to sit in the living room but there was something about the comfortable, homely space that made it seem wrong to discuss what they had to. The kitchen was also off limits for the same reason. Lovino had no love for the dining room so it was in there, after a small bicker between himself and Antonio over the suitability of the chairs, where they moved everything. It took them a while to set up because Antonio insisted on making sandwiches for lunch, even though Lovino felt progressively more and more like he would vomit the more the table was set up around him. He was well aware what he had to do now, but having his little brother bustling around the room without any realisation about what he would be told next made him feel uneasy.

It was only when the door had closed behind Antonio that Lovino found he couldn't stop his hands from shaking.

He chosen to sit in the middle rather than at the head of the table with Antonio sliding in beside him; Feliciano and, to his apparent surprise as much as Lovino's own, Ludwig had taken the seats across. The table which usually felt so spacious now felt very closed in, and the locked door didn't help. He could feel them all watching him like hawks and Lovino felt sick in more ways than one; there he could do nothing to stop the shake in his hand as he reached out for the glass of water Antonio had just poured for him.

"I don't like this at all, but it has to be done." Lovino admitted in a croak, his voice small in the vast space of the dining room.

He took a sip from the glass delicately, very aware of the sets of eyes watching him intently. He was also very aware of the silence. He could feel his face reddening as much as his sickly pallor would allow. Internally he cringed away from everything: the situation, the conversation, just the whole room. He might have understood it had to happen, but it didn't mean he had to enjoy it: it was humiliating.

However, he still managed to look over the rim of the cup, defiantly glaring at one individual in particular.

"I don't understand what _you_ are doing here."

Ludwig grimaced under his glare. Or rather his stoic facial muscles spasmed for a second to look like a grimace. There was a mixture of emotions flitting across his pale face as if his features couldn't quite decide what it was they wanted to do, only to settle on confusion.

"It was Master Feliciano's idea not mine, sir." Ludwig fidgeted awkwardly, looking to his charge and back to Lovino again briefly. "I don't think I quite understand what's going on here or what the point of this meeting is."

"How much does he know?" Antonio directed the question at Feliciano who grinned apologetically at his brother. _He better not have_-

"He knows most of what's happened." Lovino inwardly groaned. That meant he knew everything, why did his brother have such a big mouth? "I had to tell him! It would be weird if I didn't, I don't like keeping secrets from Luddy he's my best friend and besides we could maybe use his help in all this, he's super smart-"

Lovino held up his hand to stop the tide of chatter. His main worry was that Ludwig was his grandfathers progeny, surely whatever was said at the table would feed back to Viktor in some way and then it would reach their grandfather..? But no, Ludwig wasn't malicious, and despite the ruler up his backside he wasn't the sort to rat out people, especially not if expressly told otherwise. He wasn't overly pleased the other man knew but maybe Feliciano was right and they could use him for something. He was a big guy after all, extra muscle and all that, not that Lovino was planning anything involving muscle but at least it was more of an option now. He would brush it off and trust in his brother and bodyguard to keep the other guy in order. If only Ludwig could remove that confused expression off his face...

He realised they were all waiting for him to begin. The silence was oppressive and he couldn't help but look to Antonio for some form of help. The only thing the Spaniard could offer him was a small smile of encouragement that made him feel even worse. After all that musing his mind had gone blank. _What was it he had needed to say again_?

"I don't know where to start." He admitted weakly. Feliciano hesitantly raised his hand into the air as if they were at school and he wanted to ask a question. Lovino sighed and nodded at him to speak, busying his hands with taking another sip of water he didn't really need.

"Can I ask a question?" Feliciano's voice was almost timid except for the determined stare that locked onto Lovino from across the table, his hands clasped in front of him much like their Grandfather sat when he was thinking.

Ah, of course he would have to explain some things before revealing his thoughts. "Go ahead."

"I wanted to know more about those men from yesterday," his brother began. "Or at least the smaller man who was doing all the shouting, he seemed to know who you were. But I thought that was odd because he is the man running Grandpa's case and I don't understand how you could know him or his family. No offence, Lovi, but you're not one to leave the house much. So how do you know him?"

_Ah_, Lovino bit his lip. His initial response a week ago would have been to lie or tone down the truth, but he had promised Feliciano that he would be more involved now. To do that he needed the truth so he would keep to his word. It would hurt, but he would do it.

"He's Alfred's father, and Peter's too." Lovino explained. He found it easier to aim the conversation down at the table top rather than face his brother's gaze but it didn't stop him noticing his look of shock the was reflected in the polished table surface. "Alfred had always been nagging me to meet his dad, but the first time I met him was at the meal. Alfred was eager for us to be introduced and I guess Arthur was pleased to have the heir of the man he was hunting sat unwittingly at his dining table."

He didn't feel like explaining who Alfred and the others were solely for the benefit of Ludwig and Antonio. Like Feliciano, Ludwig must have had a faint idea who Alfred was, because it was through Matthew that Feliciano had got Lovino the job in the first place. Antonio was bound to struggle but he was sure he could keep up.

"Perhaps I should have paid more attention to Alfred's rambling but I was never overly interested. I usually started later and finished earlier that his dad came home, I didn't want to go out of my way to meet this guy, no matter how 'great' he claimed him to be. I should have known something was off with the way he greeted me that evening..."

"This was the night you missed dinner and the master was displeased?" Ludwig's question threw Lovino a little, he hadn't really expected him to engage with the conversation all that much but he seemed intent to get all of the details.

He nodded. "That's right. After I'd been laid off and handed in my uniform, Francis felt bad for throwing me out on my ass. He invited me for an evening meal with the family, nothing special, but kinda a little goodbye party. Mostly I think he wanted to make sure there were no hard feelings over the whole affair. I knew _Nonno_ would be mad at me skipping dinner but I couldn't really say no, so I managed to sneak out and go to the meal."

Lovino glanced around the table to make sure people were following him. Ludwig seemed satisfied that his question had been answered and beside him Feliciano sat with his features tight but listening in closely. To his left Antonio looked thoughtful, but Lovino could see the spark of remembrance flashing in his eye that showed he knew what had happened after the meal in the garage. He might have been even trying to look back to work out Lovino's behaviour for pointers of his guilt. The thought made him rush ahead with his confession.

"I had a great time. It was the first time I'd ever eaten out without it being at a restaurant for some fancy occasion, and with friends too. Perhaps it was this that made me get a bit... carried away with myself. Arthur had managed to get a lot out of me before Peter let on what his father actually did for a living, and by that time he was too late. Like an idiot I had given the name of our church."

Feliciano blinked in realisation, is mouth forming a perfect O. "So that Sunday-?"

"They were outside watching us." Antonio mumbled for him, the information already slotting together in his head before Lovino could confirm it. He looked surprisingly angry, though not at him. "That's what you were looking at. You were looking at their car, I knew it wasn't just the heat-"

"And then they were outside the house, they must have followed us home. I even went up and spoke to them!" Feliciano interrupted, understanding dawning in his eyes as he put a hand to his mouth in horror. "I thought it was a coincidence but they were watching where we live, our _house_. And Roderich must have seen them and gone out to them when no one was looking and-"

"He knew one of them, he told us so." Antonio explained darkly. _Great so that wasn't a secret now_-? Lovino almost kicked him under the table. "They must have twisted his arm into reporting to them."

All this talk of Roderich was starting to make Lovino feel distinctly queasy and unwell. He didn't really like to even think about the man, not just now at least, his head was busy enough with the issue with the police to even sit down and uncover the stone that was the guilt in his stomach. He felt Ludwig's cool gaze on him and was surprised, and slightly relieved, when the bodyguard spoke up again.

"So this Peter, what can you tell us about him?" He interrupted the chatter in his usual measured way, one eyebrow raised as if he was managing the conversation back onto its proper course.

"He's Alfred's half brother from Arthur's second relationship back in England." Lovino was more comfortable being interrogated than breaching _that_ topic of conversation. "He's about twelve years old, spitting image of his old man and as mouthy as a boy his age can be. Arthur brought him with him when he came back over to America for work after Al's mum died, because apparently Peter's mum back in England didn't want anything to do with him."

It was a minute facial shift but Ludwig looked uncomfortable at his words. His brother spared the bodyguard the smallest of glances before continuing. _Strange, what was going on there? _The room filled with an uncomfortable silence as everyone considered the fate of this young boy, or at least that was what Lovino thought on.

"So what happens now?" Antonio broke the silence. He sounded surprisingly calm and his tone made Lovino look down at the table in something similar to shame.

"The way I see it there isn't much we can do." Ludwig sighed before Lovino could speak. He pulled a plate towards him, clearly deeming the conversation over and done with. "I would suggest we help but this boy, however sad the whole thing is, has been taken beyond our grasp. It would be very hard to get him away from where he is, never mind back to his father without the master noticing. And I doubt he would take it lightly if we did. There's so much going on right now-"

"Then doesn't that make it the best time to do this?" Feliciano interrupted earnestly. Even though he was responding to Ludwig his eyes were on Lovino as he spoke, his cheeks were flushed and his eyes bright. "We can't leave a little boy like that, not in such a horrid and mean place. I'm not sure what Grandpa was thinking taking him away like that, it's so very nasty, but it is our job to make it right as his grandchildren. We have to step up! If we help out then we're just bringing things back to order, right?"

"I don't think it works like that-"

Feliciano shook his head dismissively. "Of course it does! An eye for an eye and all that stuff, Ludwig. Grandpa would want us to correct this, I know he would and it's clearly on Lovi's conscience too. The message has been sent to the police officers after all, there's no point keeping a little boy like that all locked up now."

Lovino kept silent and his gaze to the table. Feliciano was talking as if all of this could be swept under the table easily...

"Lovi?" The voice brought him back to the room, or perhaps it was the hand that lightly gripped his shoulder as if it would break. He looked up and locked eyes with Antonio.

"What do _you_ want to do?"

Lovino opened his mouth only to have to try again when no sound came out the first time.

"Firstly, I want to help Peter get home." He admitted quietly, very aware of the volume of his own voice. "It's my big mouth that got him involved in all of this, if I hadn't said anything Arthur wouldn't have anything for the case. Nothing for the case would have meant that Grandpa wouldn't have been troubled by the police breathing down his neck and forcing him to do this. I need to make sure this won't happen again. I don't know how I'm going to do it, but I know I'm not comfortable getting you all involved in fixing my mistakes."

Antonio opened his mouth to argue but to Lovino's surprise Ludwig got there first with a solemn cough and a hand in the air.

"Please sir, but you cannot go on beating yourself up over this. It was an easy mistake to make and for now we must focus on how to get this young boy back to his father, if that is your wish. It won't be easy and we will all need to have our wits about us."

"I agree with Luddy!"

"Same here, Ludwig is right. Lovino, you're right." It was Antonio's small smile that flipped him over an edge he did not realise he had been standing on. It was the clutch of darkness on his heart, the gaping void when he tried to roll over in bed and sleep soundly, lately he found a glaring precipice awaiting. Lovino did not deserve their smiles and support, he deserved their anger and dislike. He had committed so many wrong acts in the past few weeks, put so many people in danger and for what? It wasn't just Peter, an ordeal which was bad enough in itself, but the whole domino effect of his actions. Couldn't they see that? A man had died and a young boy had been taken away from his family. All of what had happened had been down to him and he would not be told otherwise.

"You don't understand." There was no quick fix to any of this, no escape button. He refused to acknowledge the burn in his throat as it seized up because he would not be upset over this, he had no right. No, his only option was to fix it but he couldn't let them think he was better than he was. He was not a martyr in all of this, he was a fool. "How can any of you sit there and say it doesn't matter? These mistakes have been fatal to more than just the family-"

"Everyone makes bad decisions-" _No, dammit._

"Not like this, Antonio." He snapped in return as Feliciano looked on with wide eyes and Ludwig's mouth turned into a flat line across his face. "I have ruined _everything_ and the only way to fix it is to make it worse. To do nothing is to be safe, and to remain ignorant to the suffering I have caused. If I do nothing I am a coward, because to make a move now is to go against Grandpa and that terrifies me. Who knows what he will do to me and the rest of you if he finds out. I am _scared_, I'm so scared Feli, but I have been a coward up to now and I'm paying for it."

Antonio looked annoyed but unsure. "You're not-"

"_Roderich_." That one word came out as a hiss and everything fell silent. Lovino was aware of the eyes in the room falling onto him but he did not find it intimidating, not anymore. He would be heard and listened to, not ignored as if he was overreacting or being stupid. "Roderich is dead because of me. Eliza is a widow because of_ me_. No one else did it! I could have said no and stuck up for him like I promised, but I kept my mouth shut because I was _afraid. _I need to make all this right but nothing can ever help me to live with what I have done because it should never have happened in the first place."

"Lovi-" Feliciano had gone very pale and his voice was barely above a whine. Lovino snapped.

"_No_, Feli. Nothing you or anyone says will make this better. I murdered him in cold blood-"

"_Lovino_-!"

"I shot him!" Lovino was not hysterical , but he was bordering on it. He could feel the bubble of hysteria working its way through the carefully constructed walls he had made up, the tension leaking through the cracks. "He was right there on the floor in front of me and begging for me not to do it, to think of his baby, to think of Eliza. And I did, and I _still_ pulled the trigger right in his _face_-"

He was struck with the memory of the blood and the rain. He stopped suddenly, his lips snapping shut to stop to poison leaking out of them. He hadn't wanted to go into detail but there it was laid out on the table next to the plates of sandwiches and jugs of juices. Antonio was solemn, Ludwig looked faintly sick but Feliciano was the hardest eyes to meet. He had to force himself to turn his head, and when he did Lovino met only sadness. There was no hatred or dislike in his brother's eyes, but they were full of tears and his bottom lip trembled slightly.

There was deadly silence. Lovino noted how heavily he was breathing and had to reach up to clear his vision that had turned cloudy before he continued.

"I have made the _most horrible_ betrayal imaginable to my one of my only friends, Feliciano." He wasn't sure why he whispered the words across to his brother alone but it seemed important to direct his speech at him. He had to understand. "I did this on Grandpa's orders and he was happy when the task was done. He expects me to move on and I can't. I cannot live with myself knowing that I have done nothing to help someone else and I will not rest, at least until I have cleared my conscience."

"This starts with Peter. I want to help him get home and out of the firing line, then Elizabeta too if I can manage it." Lovino did not mention how Roderich had wanted to escape with his family and how Lovino had promised it those many nights ago. There didn't seem to be a point now, his betrayal was clear. "She's in danger here, we all are. I don't understand what's going on right now with the family, but it's not good Feli. And to do what is right, we have to go against _Nonno_. It's the only way forward."

Feliciano bit his lip. "But we won't-"

"Of course we will, Feli." He growled, and switched swiftly to Italian to cut out Ludwig and Antonio from a conversation that should have only been between the two of them to start with, he knew that now. "_My mistakes have benefited the business, if they hadn't grandpa would have punished me, right? So if we correct them then that's doing the opposite of what he would want. Don't shake your head at me, you know this is the truth. And you know what he can be like if he doesn't get his own way. I need to do this, but I will understand if you don't want to. All I ask is that you do not stop me._"

"_Don't want to help you_?!" Feliciano stood up from his chair, the legs screeching across the floor like fingers on a chalkboard, making Lovino cringe. Lovino could see that Ludwig was growing ever more upset with the conversation, whereas Antonio was watching the conversation intently as if he would break the language barrier just by looking hard enough. "_Fratello_, _what are you saying? Of course I want to help_!"

"_Even if it means disobeying Grandpa_?" There was the crux of it, Feliciano barely paused before he answered and his words blurred together with the force of his voice and the feelings behind it.

"_He never said not to do it_!" Feliciano had switched to their native language too but Lovino had a feeling that was more out of stress than anything else. "_I understand what all this means, I might be young but I'm not stupid! I know he will be mad, but that's only if he finds out- which he won't. We will make sure he doesn't and then you will be safe._"

Lovino stayed silent and instead watched as Feliciano breathed heavily, his eyes challenging.

"I want to help you do this, Lovi." He mumbled, sinking sheepishly back into his chair. "For whatever altruistic reason you're trying to do it alone, stop. I understand how you feel about Roderich, but I don't think he would want you to be like this. He was your friend as much as mine. And you can't do this alone..."

"You're brother's right, Lovino." Antonio spoke up. He had been relatively quiet throughout but now as he spoke his voice was like a calming balm on Lovino's mind. He looked over at him: the man that had stayed. He was nothing to do with all of this, and yet- "Four minds are better than one, and we will need all of us to make sure we are not caught out with these plans. I think I speak for us all when I say we agree that something needs to be done to stop this madness, but ultimately it's you who decides what happens next. We are at your disposal."

Lovino felt so tired by this all... "I just want to help, and I need your help to fix this."

"Then help we will." Antonio said decisively. Lovino could feel the heat rising in his face and the acceptance around him and allowed perhaps the smallest hint of hope to touch his heart. Maybe they could do this...

"Thank you." He whispered, ever so lightly that he was sure that no one heard him over the beginning chatter of their plans to change everything.

He could only hope it would all be for the better.

oOo

**Hope you enjoyed reading this. Not much went on but still, it's leading up to some things! Please drop a review or PM to let me know what you thought (or even to just nag me to get my butt in gear and write!)**

**Until next update!**


	37. If Not Now, When?

**Guess who's backkk..****.**

**Chapter first, thanks and explanations at the end of the chapter!**

**A/N: hetalia doesn't belong to me**

oOo

It was perhaps due to his cautious nature, but Kiku had started making solitary rounds around the warehouse during the day when he was not busy with his other work. It calmed him greatly to take stock of things in the building; after all keeping an eye on everything felt as if it was his only true task in this place. Lately he was able to little else for Yao other than ghost through the place looking at everything. The older man had been ever more distant and ever more sickly in the past week, which pushed him further and further away from his staff. The discontent was rife in the warehouse and also in the older man's more immediate circle. Yong Soo, Mei; they all seemed miserable and on edge, and Kiku knew how they felt. So most days he walked alone with this thoughts through the building and tried unsuccessfully to think of a way to help his Godfather and ease all of this tension.

It was early afternoon and he was making his lonely way down the main corridor leading to Yao's bedroom when he knew something was amiss. He froze on the spot at the sound of voices where there was usually silence. Instinct told him that the chatter he could hear coming from the older man's room down the hall was not friendly, just by its low tone. Common sense also added that no one inside or outside the warehouse had been able to make a business meeting with Yao in days, never mind actually reach the inner sanctum of his bedroom to see him at his worst.

Kiku therefore picked up his pace and strode purposefully to Yao's bedroom on full alert. Even though it was midday outside the corridor lamps had been lit and the curtains smothered to block out the natural light. Kiku's hurried step along the corridor disturbed these blinds and threw light briefly onto his path as he fled into the antechamber of Yao's bedroom where the voices grew louder and disturbingly familiar.

_No, it couldn't be_...

Kiku had knocked when the police had been around as he had been uncertain what to expect, but this time the urgency of the situation struck him so intently that he didn't even consider it. He knew it was disrespectful but it felt imperative for him to reach his Godfather, and he was glad he did as he was met with the familiar shoulders and head of an individual he had believed he was fortunate enough to never have to see again.

"Oh, hello." Ivan Braginski's childlike voice was pleasant as his lips curled together sweetly into something akin to a smile. Ivan was sat in the large armchair which was ever present by Yao's bed and facing away from the door so that he had to swivel in his seat to face Kiku as he suddenly barged into the room. Ivan was still wearing outdoor clothes, a scarf and a jacket, giving the impression he was merely stopping by as the room was too stuffy to keep them on, but then Kiku remembered he had done the same in his own office. He was not so fortunate then.

Yao himself was looking worse for wear; it had been a few days or more since Kiku had seen his godfather in more than passing and he was looking more tired and grey than ever. The circles under his eyes looked almost like bruises in the dim lighting, and he shook constantly these days. However, he did seem alert at least which was better than when the times where he languished in bed staring at the ceiling in pain. In fact, Yao seemed rather annoyed at the sudden intrusion.

"Kiku..." He croaked, shaking his head disapprovingly. He didn't seem concerned with Ivan's company at all, he seemed fine, somehow. "This is a private meeting, can't you come back later?"

There was a small giggle somewhere to Kiku's left and a quick glance showed Felix relaxing in one of the armchairs with a book. Kiku internally scowled, but kept his face blank and ignored the nurse to turn back to his godfather with a heavy bow of respect.

"My apologises." He mumbled, blushing terribly. He had made a fool of himself but he had thought there was danger; even though the presence of Ivan was unpleasant it could not be classed as threatening. Not when his godfather seemed at ease in his presence in any case. There was no reason for Kiku to disrupt them further, so feeling abashed he eagerly attempted to back out of the room. "I believed it to be someone it was not and-"

A raised hand stopped him in his tracks, physically and verbally.

"No need to apologise." Ivan still had the sweet smile on his face with his hand in the air as he visibly attempted to be polite even though his eyes appraised Kiku closely like a cat following a mouse. "It is not so private _da_? Nothing a _nice_ boy like you can't hear."

Ivan's cold eyes seemed to spot something in Kiku's features and he laughed a little. "I remember you now: you were the little boy trying to sell me trash."

Kiku stiffened and bit back the response that would have gotten him a beating back home if he had said it in front of his father. Luckily Yao spoke up for him in his silence.

"Please, Ivan," Although he seemed aware his voice was drained and tired, his eyes even more so as he leaned back into his cushions. "Don't hound the boy. He only tried to sell the shipment on my orders, and he hadn't done it before. He is also my godson so try not to be too harsh with him."

"Then that changes things!" Ivan sent him what was probably intended to be a friendly smile but it looked more like the curve of a pythons mouth. "The godson will sit with us, please?"

Yao did not seem pleased with the turn of evens but the cold stare watching Kiku forced both their hands and Kiku found himself dragging the desk chair to sit next to the bed and unfortunately next to Ivan. The Russian grinned at him sickly before linking his hands on his lap together to fiddle his thumbs and hum.

There was a awkward pause; Yao sighed and look at over at him in apology. "We weren't discussing anything really Kiku, this will probably bore you."

"Nothing?" Ivan quizzed, looking bemused. "Friend, we were discussing medicine were we not? Your medicine. I do not see how this could be nothing-"

Kiku stiffened to stare between the two men but the conversation was unfortunately cut short by a polite knock on the door. Yao looked flustered as he attempted to straighten up and failed.

"Come in," he called weakly. Somehow the person on the other side heard him and the door opened to reveal a very pretty woman for western standards. Kiku would have hazarded to call her beautiful if it wasn't for the way her dark lips pulled into a pout and her ice like eyes surveyed everything in the room with loathing.

Ivan waved cheerfully even those his tone was acid. "Natalia, what is it? I told you to wait in the car and be quiet, not disturb our chat."

She flinched slightly at the clear threat in his voice, but this woman didn't seem too concerned about anyone else in the room. Her eyes were for Ivan only as she shook her long hair out in a wave of blond.

"We have had a message from our inside man." Beside Kiku, Yao pulled a sour face as if the words left a bad taste in his mouth. This news however seemed to perk up Ivan considerably and he visibly straightened in his chair and summoned the woman to him. Kiku was struck with the sense that he had somehow walked into his Godfather's space but Ivan had all of the power; getting messages, telling people what to do, leaving Yao a spectator in his own bed chamber. The thought made Kiku furious and it was only his curiosity at the situation and his Godfather that kept him chained to his seat.

Natalia stalked the space between them and bent over to whisper in Ivan's ears. Although he did not catch what was said, Kiku saw the reaction that it had on Ivan and it was enough to make him draw away slightly. To see Ivan actually look pleased was slightly disturbing. Even Yao, who looked like he was falling asleep, noticed.

"Good news?" He commented warily.

Ivan nodded enthusiastically.

"Oh yes, something very interesting has happened. One of the policemen working on the case against Roma has had his child taken, isn't that fun? A very dangerous turn of events, I will enjoy watching how this one turns out."

Kiku blanched. Taking a child, what had the world come to? He understood crime and he understood this city well enough now, but that was going too far even if the action was against an police officer. The police could be a problem but there were other ways to take care of things, however messy they might be at least they left children well enough alone. In the bed beside him Yao looked horrified at the actual though.

"Good god," he said, catching his breath to cough weakly into his hand. "What on earth was Mr Vargas thinking in all of this? What will that achieve?"

"Fighting on the streets most likely," Ivan said cheerfully, glancing up in the direction of Natalia who smirked down at him. "Whatever happens, it will definitely be fun to watch. It will take the pressure off of our workings and Roma will be more vulnerable. I cannot wait to get started, in fact I should head back and begin. There is much to do."

And with that look in his eyes Kiku could not doubt that. It was a second before Ivan stood up, he was a mountain of a man and moved slowly and purposefully with every movement. Once at his full height he grinned down at Yao who looked up at him blearily as if he was struggling to focus on his features.

"I must leave." At least there was that blessing hidden in this disaster- "But I will be back soon to finish our discussing, little Yao. Until then, I hope you feel better."

The grin on his face was almost a mask and Kiku hated him. He had never felt a feeling so strong before and it made him rock slightly in his chair with the force of it as if he would launch himself and Ivan. Instead he took a deep nasal breath and blinked hard twice, pushing his dislike down into his stomach where it sat like a rock. Ivan and his companion didn't notice his display, but Yao looked at him out of the corner of his straining eye, his lips pinching together ever so slightly in warning.

Kiku could take a hint. He stood to walk Ivan to the door like a good host, earning himself a vile look from Natalia which he ignored. It was comforting to watch the back of Ivan Braginski leave the room, and by extension the house- that was until he passed by Feliks. The nurse was still reading but as the tall man moved past him he looked up from his page and for a second his face was a smirk of understanding- and then it was gone. It was threatening and odd. What could it possibly mean?

Kiku refrained from speaking but inside he snarled. He felt like he was missing something and he did not like that. Not at all. Kiku vowed then that he would make it his new mission to remove Braginski and his crew from Yao's life before their influence crept into the bedchamber again: starting with that leech of a nurse and his cold smirks.

oOo

Arthur was so agitated that if he even saw one more cup of tea he might have thrown the damn thing, saucer and all, at the wall in absolute frustration. It was late afternoon and he was alone in the house instead of at work where he should have been working on the case that was had been his lifeblood for all these years. However, his oh-so-dutiful brother hadn't been keen on him leaving his own room, never mind his own house. William had made sat him down with a few stern words and left him there for the day, although on what authority Arthur didn't know. Apparently he 'hadn't had enough sleep in days and looked like shit' which was very true: he was tired, but he couldn't possibly sleep a wink when his little boy was still out there. How on earth could he rest when he was this worried? It was almost maddening.

Arthur stared with a tapping foot at the clock on the wall as it made its slow process over the seconds and minutes, grinding his teeth in annoyance. He had to admit as much as it pained him, William had a decent point keeping Arthur in the house in such a tense state. He was so on edge he would be likely to rip out the throat of any more intruders without question or pause; a behaviour which would perhaps not be useful back at the office. His apartment was not safe to leave unmanned yet, and if Arthur, agitated as he was, had to play bulldog then he damn well would. Peter might have been taken but who was to say that Roma's men would stay away now they had one of the boys? After all, Roma didn't just break lives, he shattered them into thousands of pieces.

The house was nearly empty: only himself and a subdued Alfred remained. Matthew was still in the hospital but he would be out later today, Francis had barely left his bedside since the incident so he was well looked after. Lucky for him, Francis had thankfully stayed well out of Arthur's way since that night, but it did not mean he was out of Arthur's thoughts. The mere idea of him skulking around the flat and even the hospital rooms made his stomach seethe in rage which Arthur only bottled up because he knew that Matthew and Alfred needed him to hold his nerve together to sort out this mess. Although how he was meant to do that he did not know.

His men had spilt their time working on finding Peter and watching the apartment. They had been working around the clock to provide him with support and information, and all for _nothing_. There was no evidence to find it seemed; dead ends loomed everywhere they looked until he felt like a rat in a maze. Arthur chewed the inside of his lip so hard he broke the skin just at the thought. Vargas knew how to hide things in his labyrinth of streets and chaos, he was not a newcomer to this line of work: Arthur on the other hand felt shamefully helpless. He was always on the other end of a case, and it was a shock to suddenly bear the weight of the tragedy as his own. The Commissioner had spoken to him personally and politely, assuring him that all would be done to find Peter but even the other teams drawn into the case had found no trail to point them in the right direction. If Arthur had the proof and perhaps half of his youth back, he would have circled a team in on Roma the old fashioned way and beat the truth out of him.

As things were he couldn't be touched without lawyers and whatnot being involved-

A sudden knock snapped his attention back into the present. He froze and grabbed his gun from the table by his bed, robotically hurrying out of his room. Arthur's mind was already on dangers and men in black stood on his doorstep that he barely paid Alfred any mind as he poked his head out of the kitchen, only enough to roughly order him to 'stay upstairs!' before Arthur disappeared down the stairwell and into the lobby. He paused only to listen with his head against the door before flinging it open, his gun ready-

Arthur couldn't quite understand what was seeing.

His brain must have been more tired and addled than he though because the bright smile and large eyes which met his own were not the armed men he was expecting. The figure before him wasn't even _tall_. It was if he had opened his door to a mirage and for a moment he couldn't even speak. Luckily that didn't seem to be much of an issue.

"Ciao!" Arthur had to blink as the young man before him waved. Actually waved. "Hello again, Mr Policeman! I was in the neighbourhood and I thought I would just drop in on my way from school to see how Matthew was. I hope he is feeling better after his accident and that he will be coming back soon, it was very dull today without him I really missed him!"

_No_: the voice, the smile, everything. He was not dreaming. Feliciano Vargas, the youngest member of the Vargas trio was stood on _his_ doorstep in the middle of the day, in bright sunlight seemingly alone and still smartly tucked up into his school uniform. He didn't even seem concerned with the gun still resting in Arthur's hand which he hasn't the heart just yet to put away.

It might not have been a dream, but it was certainly some sort of sick joke God was playing.

"What are you doing here?" Arthur was very surprised by his own tone of voice. He was abrupt but not furious, although he could feel his blood pressure starting to rise drastically. Was this some form of sick gloating? Could Roma had sent his youngest here to see him, and if so hadn't enough damage been done to their family?

Feliciano seemed confused by the question, tilting his head to one side and blinking quickly.

"I'm looking for Matthew-"

"Listen here, boy." Arthur realised that he didn't even want to hear what he had to say: Arthur would not allow himself to be lied to or ridiculed further. "Your family have done more than enough damage in this household, you're a curse the lot of you. If you think you're even hearing about Matthew after what your grandfather did you have another thing coming."

His voice rose in frustration at the end and the sane part of him put the gun in his pocket before he made a stupid mistake like shooting the little shit. Instead he chose to wave his finger threateningly in the young man's direction

"I don't know what your _real_ motive is in coming here but you better get off of my doorstep before I go and fetch my badge and throw your ass into a cell. Be thankful I'm not as trigger happy as some of your grandfather's stooges. Now if you don't mind-"

Before his anger could get the better of him and make him do something he might regret, Arthur made to slam the door on the boy but found the movement of the wood blocked. Arthur was so surprised at the sudden stop to his frustration that he froze and looked down at the floor where Feliciano's delicately polished shoe was poking out between the gap. Arthur looked back up to find the boy's face peering imploringly through the gap.

"Remove your foot." Arthur demanded, but Feliciano had the nerve to shake his head ever so slightly.

"Please don't shut the door, Mr Kirkland." Arthur had no idea why the boy was whispering like that, it was almost unnerving. He had been so cheerful before but suddenly he was totally serious, even worried. "I know you don't understand, but you have to calm down. He said you would be mad-"

Whether it was curiosity or plain stupidity Arthur didn't know but he found himself opening the door, very slowly. He was still mad, but the way the boy was looking at him was bizarre and unexpected. Arthur glared down at him suspiciously, trying to get his blood pressure and temper back under control.

"_Who_ said I would be mad?"

In response Feliciano dug his hand into the satchel at his waist to grab something. Arthur tensed up, but the item was a lot lighter and thinner than a gun- an envelope. The paper bridged the gap between them and hung there expectantly.

"Here, this is for you." Somehow the bright tone he has used before had dropped so his voice no longer carried, but the smile on his face was back now and inextinguishable as ever. What was this, an act? And who for? "You need to take it and thank me, they may be watching the house still and it would look suspicious if you didn't take it."

"What is it?"

Feliciano shook his head a fraction again. "Just take it. Don't open it here."

Against his better judgement, Arthur reached forward with numb hands to do as the young man bid. The envelope was the side and shape of a normal, everyday card, and a quick look on the back showed that someone had wrote Matthew's name on it.

_What on earth-_?

"I don't understand." Arthur mumbled. Of course he understood enough and the cogs were starting to grind into gear in his head now; the secrecy, the message for him but labelled to Matthew, he was not an idiot and had been in the forces looking at crime cases for long enough to know that messages were being passed here. But what Arthur did not understand was why they were coming from this source of all places. This was a Vargas, his enemy. Feliciano shouldn't have been passing him notes of any sorts. If he was any older he could have been even involved with the kidnap of Peter, and yet here he was passing cryptic notes from unknown sources right into the polices' hands. It was down right unfathomable.

"Who is this from?"

But Feliciano was already hopping down from the top step and onto the alleyway, dodging the grim and the mess of the city's underside to step down primly. He turned around to grin at Arthur as he adjusted his bag on his shoulder.

"My brother send on his best wishes to you and yours, Mr Kirkland." And then bringing his voice back up to the volume it had been when he first appeared, "Please make sure to give Matthew the card, I made it myself and I hope it will make him feel better. I miss him at school so make sure to hurry him up in his recovery! I have to go home now for dinner but I will be seeing you soon hopefully, _arrivederci_!"

As quickly as he had arrived Feliciano was off with a short wave, skipping down the alley, school bag swinging at his side. Arthur stepped out to watch him leave, feeling dazed. At the end of the alley where the dark stone work met clear, summer sunlight Feliciano was met with a tall shadow of a man and together they merged with the throngs of people moving past the end of the alley. Arthur watched and watched but they did not re-emerge, and no one else could be seen.

"Dad?" Arthur jumped and turned to find Alfred standing barefooted in the back room. He looked as confused as Arthur felt. He did not know how long it had been since his eldest son had ignored his order to stand there but it must have been long enough as he was looking intently at the envelope clutched in his father's hand as if it was cursed. "Wasn't that Lovino's little brother? What did _he _want?"

There was distaste marring Alfred's question. He had of course been informed of Lovino's real identity when Peter had been taken, and he had sulked about it for a long time afterwards. It was the first time he had willingly said the other boy's name since the incident, and it looked like it pained him. The betrayal had been something personal for Alfred after all.

Arthur stepped back inside and shut the door, only to lean on it suddenly heavy.

"I don't know, son." Alfred blinked in surprise and took the letter off his father who did not protest. His blue eyes took in the name on the back in confusion.

"Mattie?" Arthur was surprised when Alfred didn't rip into the letter to find out more. Instead his son looked indecisive but eventually settled on handing the slip of paper back to his father. "You open it, let's see what they have to say."

"Do you want to?"

Alfred shrugged but his eyes told a different story. He wanted this nightmare to be over as much as Arthur himself. Alfred was only a young man, but he felt the loss of his brother as keenly as his father and he knew he felt just as powerless as Arthur himself had felt, perhaps even more. He had let the men take his brother because he was powerless to stop them. The guilt had eaten him up, in fact Arthur realised that today was the first day since Peter's kidnap that Alfred had really spoken to him. It was this that made him take up the letter still offered to him and rip into the paper. He put his hand in and drew out-

A card. It had get well soon written on it and was indeed handmade as promised. Arthur couldn't quite believe what he was seeing, and neither could Alfred.

"But wait-" He said, eyes narrowing in disappointment that Arthur felt just as keenly. Had it all been a cruel ruse?

Arthur fully removed the card from the envelope to get a better look at it and there was a flutter as a sheet of paper fell out from between the folds of the card and onto the floor. Arthur stooped to fetch it, catching the brief impression of cramped hand writing covering both sides of the paper. He was holding his breath, and could almost feel Alfred doing the same. For some reason he dreaded his eyes touching those words, but he ate them up anyway, his hands shaking slightly.

_Inspector_, it read, _I'm sorry for the clandestine methods I had to use to get this note into your hands, but we both know that it is better safe to be sorry in this world. I could not be seen to be sending this note to you, and my brother insisted he take it (he also insisted on the card as well)..._

Arthur found himself walking to sit down on the foot of the stairs, watched silently by Alfred who stood at a distance from his father as he read;

_I cannot say how sorry I am for all that has happened,_ Arthur resisted the urge to snort, _but you will have to take my word that I have been deeply affected by these past weeks. It will probably comfort you to know that your boy is alive and well, but only for now. I do not know how long this stand-off between our families will last, as my grandfather is not a patient man and I fear for your son's welfare. However, I believe I may have a plan to help us both..._

With his hand over his mouth Arthur read the rest of the letter, then had to read it again and again. It was only when Alfred, who had been getting more and more anxious about his father's silence, spoke up that Arthur tore his eyes away from the letter.

"Well?"

Arthur met his sons eyes. "I need to call your uncle, and after that-"

He took a deep, shaky breath.

"You are going to tell me everything you know about Lovino Vargas, and don't leave anything out."

oOo

Scipio loved his job, even with the terrible working hours and the constant threat of Roma Vargas hanging over his head. He enjoyed spreading God's word and saving the souls of his flock, however reluctant they were to find salvation. He particularly liked the smell of the incense, the comforting shield of the cassock and the steady hold of the collar at his neck. He even liked the dusty, worn halls of the church where he lived, right down to the plaster falling off the walls and the leaky ceiling in his room. It was all God's test and he accepted it dutifully.

However, he certainly enjoyed a break from all of that. He didn't get many days to himself in the year, being a priest was a full on position in this city which was what made itt was so pleasant just to relax and put his feet up for five minutes, grab the good book and settle down with a large cup of-

_Ring, ring!_

The call of the phone cut through the room like a knifes edge making him jump slightly in his seat. Scipio sighed. It was his day off and one of the other priests who worked in the small church would answer it. It might have been his home, but days off were days off whether the phone was outside his room or not. It was their job to look after the place when he was busy after all.

As if summoned by the shrill call of the phone, there came the gentle patter and swish of an on duty pastor who padded down the corridor outside Scipio's room. The noise was cut off and Scipio smiled and settled back down into his chair-

Only to be disrupted by a knock at the door. He sighed, he wasn't even wearing his full uniform today...

"Yes, what is it?" He called out, laying his book down wistfully. One of the other brother poked his head around the door with an apologetic smile.

"Apologises, Brother Scipio," He murmured. "But there is a gentleman on the phone for you."

_Ergh_, give him strength. Not Roma on his day off surely? Couldn't the man take a hint, or a day off himself? He was the only person he could imagine phoning him and being so insistent to speak to him on his day off surely.

"Who is it?" He asked anyway, almost dreading the response however he was surprise to find the other churchman shrug in confusion.

"I'm not sure, they didn't give a name when I asked but they said it was urgent." That was odd and it made Scipio sit up straighter in interest. "It is most likely a member of the congregation wanting advice on a certain issue, I offered my help but they asked for you specifically."

Scipio took in this information. It was probably just as his colleague said and a member of the church seeking advice, and if they had asked for him specifically then duty called, although why they needed him was another matter. Some of the older members of the congregation preferred his advice to the other priests, so it could have been one of them. They liked to hear his voice as his accent reminded them of their home towns in Europe, or so some of them said.

He nodded his understanding of the situation and stood up. He put down his bible on the table and followed the brother out into the passage, picking up the receiver as the shiver of church robes slid back off into the church proper.

"Yes?" He pressed the device to his ear, and received silence. He blinked in confusion and announced himself clearly. _Perhaps the old dear was deaf? _

"Scipio here, what can I help you with?"

There was a crackle on the line and nothing more. His brow creased in confusion. "Hello?"

Scipio was almost considering putting the receiver down when the person on the other end finally replied and he almost dropped the phone in surprise, his mouth forming a perfect circle.

It took a moment for him to recover and he coughed into the speaker to fill the awkward silence that had fallen. "I'm sorry, I'm just surprised you would call _me_. Yes I am alone. What exactly do you need?"

He listened and listened well to the measured voice explaining everything. Scipio's eyes were frozen as the voice spoke on the cross hanging above the phone which glittered back at him from above. It took him perhaps the whole of three seconds to decide on the right course of action- one he had never considered to be a possibility.

"You can count on my help. Tell me everything I need to know."

oOo

"You're sure you can contact him with this?"

"I'm not saying it's fool-proof but it's a lot safer than the alternative. I don't like having to do this as it is, adding extra risk just seems to be asking for trouble."

"... Do you think he will help us?"

"I don't think he'll be able to resist; he loves schemes and intrigue. And we can't really do this without him can we?"

"... Then let's get to business."

oOo

**So, yeah, I'm not dead. I also haven't lost interest with this story at all. **

**I'll keep the explanation short and sweet but basically I completed a life dream and finished university. I did lots of work, wanted a break and ended up going off the internet for ages. I got a job in September and I've been focusing on that, but I'm in the swing of things now and I am returning to writing.**

**I will be finishing this fic in the next year or so as it's technically a first draft novel. I have a lot of the rewrite planned out already and I need to finish this to start it.**

**I won't be very frequent but there will be updates on the way.  
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**In the meantime a MASSIVE thank you to everyone who is still following this story and to all the lovely reviews I got in my absence. I did read them all, even if I didn't reply, and they made me feel hella-guilty but also very eager to continue asap.**

**A special thank you has to go to Tristripes who had artwork comissioned for this fic (see the cover image omg) and sent me into a daze of excitement for days! I can never thank them enough! And you should also thank them because it's that more than anything that made me realise that I need to get my butt in order for you amazing readers.**

**So next update will be as soon as possible. I've already started writing it!**

**Any reviews in the meantime will be appreciated greatly!**

**Apologies for taking so long as well!**


	38. A Touch of Mystery

**I know I promised this chapter pretty quick after the last one, but I struggled with it a little. You know when you have a scene in your head but you just can't get it down? Yeah, that was me. Anyway, here you all are, better late than never!**

**Thank you for the continued support in all the reviews, favourites and follows. You guys are awesome!**

oOo

"That's your third one," William commented dryly, stirring his cold cup of coffee without looking up to reach Arthur's eye. Arthur had been in the process of lighting yet another cigarette to calm his nerves, but his brother's words made him stop and slam down his hands down on the table in irritation.

"I'm agitated." He snapped back needlessly as if his response was not indicator enough of his foul mood. He pointed one hand at the clock on the far wall while reluctantly butting out the cigarette with the other. 'He's late, it's suspicious as hell. Remind me, why I am risking my career on a fools errand, Will?"

"Because it's the only option we have right now. And you should keep your voice down, people are starting to stare."

By people, William meant the customers of the small, downtown diner that they were sat in. The place was common and friendly enough, with white washed walls and coffee stained tables it had a distinctly used feel to it. It was close to the train station and just far enough out of the city centre to host a few uncommon faces amongst the regular bunch so the two officers blended in with the varied town hoppers and travellers. In normal circumstances Arthur wouldn't have received a backwards glance, but as it was the usual cheerful waitresses were starting to cast worried glances in their direction at his barely constrained frustration.

Arthur couldn't help but feel wound up and on edge. The place seemed nice enough, but he was half expecting the whole of the Vargas clan to hop through the window at any minute. Every time the door opened he jumped out of his seat and god forbid if someone went into the back room or the bathroom. Any of them could be a danger- hell, even the little old lady sat with what seemed to be her grandson by the door could be part of this whole big scheme. Arthur had obeyed Vargas' cryptic commands to bring only one man he trusted and tell no one else, but he felt exposed without his team waiting outside. No one even knew where they were for goodness sake. In that way he glared at every poor soul who passed their table like a bulldog, sharing the same look for the front door and clock over the counter like they had caused him personal harm.

It didn't help that the minute hand on the clock was _way_ past where it should have been.

"But he's late." He spat out the word in a curse. He reached for his cup of tea and stirred it in order to do something with his hands that wasn't putting it through the table. The drink was stone cold; he hadn't even drank any. "The letter said to meet here at one and it's now half past. If that doesn't sound like a set up then call me a liar. We could be jumped at literally any minute, sorry if I'm a little tense."

Arthur ground his teeth in William's general direction as his brother sighed without looking at him.

"If we were going to be jumped I think it would be on time, don't you? Why keep us waiting otherwise?" _Curse him for being the voice of reason._

His brother sounded annoyed at his mood but Arthur didn't really care. "Why wouldn't they?"

William turned slowly in his seat to look at him and Arthur deeply resented how much he looked so much like his father at that moment. It was if the old devil had crawled from his grave to sniff at him in disapproval. It made Arthur feel uncomfortable, and he looked down at the well-used table of their private booth rather than at the door or William's frank stare.

"If you have already made up your mind about this whole thing, then I suggest we leave now to save ourselves the embarrassment." Arthur opened his mouth to argue but William stopped him with a raised hand. "You're already expecting the worst from this meeting, so why would you trust anything that the kid has to say when he gets here? If you've got the cuffs waiting under the table, how can I trust you to let him speak? We might be putting our careers on the line here, but he contacted _you_ remember, and we both know what that means."

Arthur wasn't stupid, of course he knew what that meant. If this whole thing wasn't a set up then Lovino was going against his family and everything they stood for. Betrayal in itself was enough to get yourself in hot water, but this was reporting to an officer, the police, the most persistent of enemies of any Mafia family. They were a whole new level of things that just _weren't_ done. Arthur knew from experience that informing to the police was equivalent to putting a loaded gun in your mouth and pulling the trigger- definite suicide. Grandson or not this meeting was certainly a one way street to a bad ending.

Of course, that was one of the main reasons Arthur couldn't believe this was happening. It was so illogical how one young man could go against everything he knew to save the life of one innocent. It was dangerous on his part and downright bizarre as far as Arthur was concerned. It could only be a ruse, because why else would Lovino Vargas, soon to be head of the empire his Grandfather had slaved over for nearly 15 years, bother with someone so insignificant as Peter? What was in it for him?

There must have been something behind it- whether that something was of bad or good intent remained to be seen.

But William was still watching him closely, and in that way he had to relent.

"Fine, I'll cut him some slack. But if this turns out to be a trap don't hold me back when I start waving a gun around, and don't tell me I didn't tell you so."

"If you're right then he can kill me first." William smirked, but there was an underlying tension to his smile that showed he was just as worried as Arthur about this whole thing.

All too suddenly their conversation was cut short as the door at the other end of the diner opened with a cheery bell ring, and two men dressed in black walked in. Arthur couldn't help but hold his breath and tense up for the absent gun at his side. Lovino Vargas stood out from the pair immediately in both looks and stature; there was something in the way he entered the room that made all eyes turn onto him. Just like his dark features it was most likely something he had inherited straight from his Grandfather. Arthur did not know the other man with him, but he wore his hair unfashionably messy and had a large smile on his face which he directed at the waitress who attempted to seat them. Arthur was pretty sure he had been there on the night he had gone to Roma's house, but he had no idea what relation he was to Vargas. Across the room, Lovino locked eyes with Arthur who sat up straighter in his seat as he made a beeline for their booth, the other man following in tow.

William was seated at the end of the row with Arthur beside him, so only he was able to stand as the pair reached the table. He did not hold out his hand but the severe nod he sent Vargas' seemed enough for the young man who slid into the seat, followed by his second. This two by two seating arrangement meant that Arthur was left glaring at Vargas across the table. It seemed an age since the last time they had properly seen each other on that night in his kitchen where Vargas had unwittingly been spilling golden nuggets into his lap. A lot had changed since then-

"Would any of you boys like a drink?" Arthur had not seen the waitress follow Vargas to the table but she seemed intent on keeping them all hydrated. Neither Arthur nor William had touched their drinks enough to warrant a new drink, and therefore politely declined. Vargas shook his head but his companion turned to the lady and smiled pleasantly.

"A glass of water please, ice if you have it."

The waitress smiled and dashed off to get the order. The man had an accent behind those curved lips, one at Arthur couldn't quite place. _Mexican? Brazilian?_ Whatever the case he wasn't a pure blooded American by a long shot. _Where on earth did Vargas find these people? Did he stand with a net at the end of the docks as all the immigrants were off-loaded, waiting for the most gullible and pig-headed?_

With the waitress gone, the table was left in an awkward silence. Arthur couldn't help but grind his teeth and glare in Vargas' general direction. Everything about the young man seemed to annoy him, right from the way he hadn't styled his hair for the meeting meaning it was in a wavy mess (no hat either), down to the way he hadn't removed his outdoor jacket. It was the height of summer for goodness sake, he was half tempted to ask if he was planning on going somewhere or whether there was something he was hiding, namely a gun. But that wouldn't have been appropriate for these so called peace talks so Arthur had to placate himself with staring and making Lovino look extremely uncomfortable until the man's second tapped his arm and made him jump.

Vargas seemed to catch the silence and grimaced, looking between the two brothers in apology.

"I'm sorry we were late gentlemen," His voice sounded odd, strained in fact like he'd been shouting a lot. "My grandfather didn't leave while late and the walk over here took longer than expected. I hope you weren't waiting too long."

"No problem," William lied quickly, casting Arthur a small glance as if daring him to declare otherwise.

"I thought this place would be the best for our meeting. My grandfather doesn't own this diner or anything close by meaning I shouldn't be recognised. It's safer that way; for all of us. Plus it's neutral grounds so we have the freedom to talk openly about this whole thing."

Vargas coughed suddenly and harshly into his hand, his eyes watering slightly at the effort but he carried on as if nothing had happened.

"This is Antonio," Vargas pointed a hand at the other man as a form of introduction. "He's my... friend."

"Actually," the man butted in. "I'm his bodyguard."

It was Lovino's turn to glare at his partner, but he was saved from any comment when the waitress returned with the water on a tray and a bright grin that was at odds with the general tension of the table. She placed the tinkling glass in front of Antonio and then sauntered off to look after a new group who had just entered the diner, most likely in search of lunch. It was only after she had turned her back that Antonio slid the glass over to Lovino's side of the table without comment.

It was probably because of that gesture that Arthur really took in Lovino Vargas, and he found that he looked like trash. His face was pale and his eyes were rimmed with red, black smudges marring the usually olive skin beneath. The lack of hair style and the fact he kept his coat on, coupled with the raspy breath and cough, suddenly made a lot more sense. If Arthur didn't know any better, he would have said that the young man in front of him was ill. Quite ill in fact.

Not that it made any difference to how he felt about him of course. he was still the heir of his enemy and Arthur wouldn't be put off by any illness in getting what he wanted.

"Enough chatter, let's actually discuss what we came here about."

Antonio and even William looked affronted at Arthur's tone, but Lovino trained his eyes steadily on his own.

"I'm sorry about everything that has happened," he started, _a likely story_ but Arthur let him continue. "You probably won't believe me when I say it but I had nothing to do with what happened to Peter. My grandfather doesn't ask for permission before doing anything, and he took this step without my knowledge. I think I have a plan to help."

Arthur distinctly felt the lack of physical back up and couldn't help the need to feel a little threatening. He leaned forward as far as his seat would allow.

"And what if I call you a liar?" Antonio might have made a noise of anger under his breath but Arthur only had time for those oh-so-familiar eyes across the table which stared back at him unblinkingly. "What if I put you in cuffs right now and drag your ass to the station?"

It was an empty threat, okay so he did have handcuffs in his pocket, and yes he would be more than pleased to arrest the man before him, thrilled in fact, but he also wanted to see how he would react. It was a test if anything; if he was a liar he was bound to act annoyed or ashamed. He was therefore slightly disappointed with the lack of squirming in the man before him.

"By all means," Lovino responded, his eyes tired. "Put me behind bars, but that will not help Peter right now. I understand how hard this is, but you need to trust me Inspector."

"Trust you?" It was William's turn to sound confused. "Lad, it seems almost impossible that this whole meeting can even be happening right now. Your grandfather being who he is, well that's a box we won't open, but your brother's little cryptic messages and everything else- it's going to make it hard to trust anything you say. Arthur and I agreed to give you a chance, but we were half expecting to have to fight our way out of this place. You're not someone we can just trust that easily, you're going to have to give us more than that."

Vargas bowed his head slightly. "I am sorry it seems that way but my brother was necessary. I had been indisposed for over a week and I was unable to make the journey to the store."

Vargas was openly admitting his illness there, but Arthur was still unswayed by the information. It was probably bias, but he couldn't help himself. Lovino looked so much like Roma it was impossible for him to not feel some sort of dislike for him. Everything was the same, perhaps apart from the shape of his eyes. They hit Arthur with force, but he would not be budged until given proof or an explanation what this whole thing was about.

Perhaps sensing he was getting nowhere fast, Lovino sighed.

"What do you need?"

_Your grandfather behind bars, this city without organised crime, more money in his pocket, his family to be happy, his little boy back in his arms-_

"I need information."

"I am not willing to part with any information on my family, business or otherwise." Lovino's voice was calm, but there was a line drawn before them on the table with his words. "This- agreement- between our two parties is founded on Peter and Peter alone. I have a plan to get him back to you without my Grandfather suspecting your involvement and taking things further. He will be none the wiser and this mess will be fixed. We need to work together though, and that means you need to take me as I am. Believe me, it's better than the alternative."

But he was the _enemy _and it turned Arthur's _stomach _to even be here_. _Years of distrust would not and could not be shifted with promises and words."Who says I even want to work with you?"

He chose to ignore William's small groan. The conversation had switched from being the two pairs to be a face-off between himself and Vargas across the sugar scattered table. Over the top of the tea stained surface, Lovino scowled and despite his sunken, tired eyes he managed to look a little threatening.

"Inspector, let me make myself clear." He said evenly as his bodyguard moved into a more active stance, sitting straighter in his chair and puffing out his chest. "We will either work together on this plan, or not at all. I know it will be difficult to trust me, but I need you to believe me when I say that I care deeply enough about your son and others like him to take part in this scheme and jeopardise myself and others in the process. If you cannot compromise with me on this then I am not willing to lend you my knowledge. And you cannot do this without me. You and my grandfather will take everything from each other, starting with the death of your boy: and Peter _will_ die without this plan."

Arthur, and even William, had to take this in for a moment, sharing a long look in each other's direction. William's ageing face stared back at his own, and Arthur never felt so old. Vargas' dark words had a profound effect on them, pushing them into a guilty silence. Normally Arthur might have exploded in anger at Lovino's lack of cooperation and the threat of his son's death, but he couldn't help but feel the honesty in his words. Somehow he knew it; despite all his searching and care Arthur was not willing to back down from this, and the conflict would cost him his son.

A pause and a decision.

"I don't like it." He ground out sullenly. "If my superiors knew what I was doing-" _It was sacrilege, it was unsafe-_

_But Peter-_

"I would advise you to keep your bosses out of this. Whatever we discuss, whatever happens, is off the books- mine and yours. No one, unless you trust them enough, needs to be involved. I have five men, just to keep you updated. All have a part to play in the plan and I trust them all."

"Off _your_ books?" William asked, perhaps a little too loudly as an little girl seated a few seats down with her parents turned to look at them, pig tales bobbing with the sudden movement of her head. Arthur kicked him under the table for the slip, and not too gently.

Lovino on the other hand actually rolled his eyes, but it was Antonio who spoke up from his assumed silence.

"You can't possibly think that Roma knows we're here today?" His eyes were wide and alarmed. "_Mios dios_, there's no telling what would happen if he found out we left the building, never mind if he figured out who we came to see. He thinks Lovino is still in bed! We could only leave when we knew he was out, if we hadn't known he was making a business trip today we wouldn't have been able to plan this far in advance. You're meant to be the inspector for his case right, surely you know what sort of man he is?"

William cleared his throat in embarrassment.

"But you're his grandson and his successor..?"

He left the question dangling over the edge of an uncomfortable silence. Lovino's gaze never faltered, he was unfazed even as he took a sip of water from the glass. The noise of the cup hitting the hard table surface had a certain level of finality about it that made a sliver of ice slide down Arthur's shirt.

No, he _couldn't_... Arthur knew all about the ways of the family but a reaction like that confirmed everything he had known and hated for all these years. As a father himself, and Alfred nearly Lovino's age, it was impossible to think...

"My grandfather is very eager for me to succeed him, that much is true. He's been trying to persuade me to have a more instrumental role for years," Lovino's tone was frank, but Antonio seemed the more uncomfortable of the two with the new topic and chewed his lip slightly. "But in the end there is still my brother if all else fails. I don't doubt that he would take this betrayal horribly if he knew, and frankly I don't want to think about what he might do if he did."

A shiver, barely noticeable, passed through Lovino's frame without reaching his face. It was the only sign Arthur had of any emotion behind his words as he was so deadpan, but everything we was saying was completely interesting and he found his attention fixated on the young man.

"My grandfather you know is not a man who deals with betrayal well, especially not from so close to his ranks." _And what else could be closer than his heir? _"He is liable to be aggressive in some form, if not to me then to others. Things have changed now. This is why gentlemen, I need your promise at this is all strictly between us: your silence for your son, and if you could manage it a favour too."

Arthur huffed even though his heart was beating like a racehorse in his chest. "I knew there would be a price for this Vargas. I'm not lining your pocket if that's what you think, I don't have that sort of cash."

Antonio hissed something under his breath that he didn't catch, but Lovino clearly did. The young man held up his hand to halt any further aggression, leaving the bodyguard to stare daggers at Arthur. He was pretty sure that had he not intervened then the foreigner would have grabbed him over the table. This came as quite a surprise to Arthur as this man clearly respected Vargas enough to listen to his orders, and also to protect his honour when it seemed threatened. _Lovino couldn't be much of a monster if he could inspire men to take up arms for him rather than forcing them to do so in fear, could he?_

"It might surprise you to learn I am not concerned about money. I am funding this whole scheme with my own savings; if my grandfather is good for anything it's that he doesn't really care how I spend my money." Lovino didn't seem as offended as Antonio did on his behalf and he shrugged at the statement. He was perhaps used to crass statements about his wealth and brushed it off easily. "Actually, my favour ties in nicely with the plan to get Peter out of this mess and shouldn't take much doing, if you wouldn't mind doing it?"

William shifted uncomfortably. "That depends on what it is."

"There's been a few issues at home." Lovino charged straight into the explanation. "Issues that have made it very difficult on a member of my household: our maid, Elizabeta. She's an old friend of mine, I've known her since I arrived in America. We were younger together, and we've been very close for a long time. She's like a sister to me and she needs somewhere safe to go."

Arthur wasn't sure about this turn of events. There was clearly more to the story than Vargas was willing to let on. An issue was a small dispute in a normal family home; who knew what sort of chaos was flaming under their roof. What on earth could even make it so bad that she would have to leave home? Or even leave the family she had served for so long? He didn't know how comfortable he would feel housing a criminal or something of the sort, then again she was a maid of the household and probably nothing to do with Roma's empire.

_Her name seemed familiar though..._

"Safe how?"

"Safe enough that she won't be found. She is heavily pregnant; it's partly from concern for the child that I am asking you to take her away from this mess-"

Wait a second, pregnant, issues at home and no mention of a man- it all clicked together in Arthur's mind. He distinctly recalled Vash telling him about their man Roderich's wife who was expecting a baby. It was part of the reason the butler had agreed to start informing on his long standing boss. Where the hell was Roderich and why was his wife on the run, unless..?

He didn't say anything. Arthur found he couldn't, and in fact he didn't need to. He could tell by the sudden tension at the table and the look in Lovino's eye, their man in the know was dead. Somehow, Roderich was gone...

Lovino carried on as if nothing had changed. "The plan is a simple one really if you consent to helping Eliza. We get them out of this city and somewhere safe where my grandfather doesn't have any influence. Peter you can leave to me, I know where he is and have an idea how to get him out of there and on to the next stage easily enough. They will be travelling by train, I have already picked the city and organised all the tickets and other travel documents."

"What do you need us to do?" William found his voice quicker than Arthur who was still sinking into the feeling of loss that came with the death of the butler that had helped them so much. _How could he be dead, they only spoke a week or so ago? How did Roma even find out?_

"Get them out of here safely, send them somewhere where they can be looked after. Someone you trust should take them to make sure they're settled and happy as well. They won't be able to come back here for a long time..." Lovino allowed a second for that to settle on top of Arthur like a shroud. Even if they saved Peter he would still be sent away..? Of course he could not walk the city as he had before, but he had always- _no, no_ he had known it and just hadn't wanted to think it. His little boy was lost to him for now; but life apart was always better than death.

"I cannot promise my Grandfather won't find out quicker than expected and send his men to stop everything. I have a few ways to hold them back, but I need your help making sure this scheme happens."

"How are you going to hold them back?" Arthur knew Roma and he did not wait before shooting and he could not see how that would change, plan or not.

"Ludwig, my brother's bodyguard will join them on the search for the boy and lead them off the scent for as long as possible while Feliciano covers for me at home." Lovino explained calmly. He certainly knew every part of this plan very well and seemed certain it would work, Antonio on the other hand was looking more and more ill at ease by the second. "And I personally will be taking Peter to whoever will accompany him and Elizabeta on the train. If my grandfather's men find us sooner than expected, they will at least pause before shooting their boss' grandchild. At least this is what I hope."

Arthur couldn't help but hiss. This was suicide, it had to be: and yet why could he not help but feel a small tingling of hope at the pit of his stomach. He watched in silence as the young man before him took another, needy gulp of water to soothe his probably parched throat. He did look so very ill, and really he was Arthur's own son's age. In another life the two men could have been in school together; Lovino could have just been another boy working in their store after all. Fate had fallen hard on his shoulders. Perhaps, if things had been different, Arthur might have just liked him that little bit more...

"Why are you doing this, really?"

Lovino placed down his glass and a half smile played on his tired lips for the briefest second.

"I have already told you." He said, and reached into his pocket to draw out a piece of paper. For the first time since the other man had sat down, Arthur did not flinch at the movement in expectation of a weapon but rather held out his hand for the offered sheet. He cast an eye over if briefly; it was a full schematic for the day with timings and places and everything on it. It was more than Arthur could have ever done, and it totally protected the giver's family and identity. Lovino Vargas was at least smart as well as clearly suicidal. _If his grandfather found out though-_

"Are you sure about this?"

"Do I have your promise to help Elizabeta?"

"Of course-"

"Then I am sure."

oOo

If it wasn't for his head cold, Lovino would have said that the moment he and Antonio exited the diner into white, clear sunlight, he could breathe a little easier in the knowledge that things were starting to fall into place. As it was, breathing was hard, as was standing, so he hurried onwards quickly moving away from the diner. Momentum and purpose kept him firmly upright. Lovino barely paused as he joined the flow of the pavement traffic, seamlessly blending into the crowd as another ordinary member of society. It helped that he bowed his head low and avoided everyone's eyes; he had lived in the big city long enough to know that a casual glance in the wrong direction could be enough to get you spotted. It was always safer to watch your own feet. Antonio followed behind him at a reasonable distance, only really reaching his side as Lovino changed course to cross the road, lightly touching his back to probably stop him from just darting out.

_Okay_, so perhaps he was going a little fast. He did feel out of breath and wheezy but there wasn't much time to get to where he needed to be. They had been late to one meeting and now they were late to another. Lovino reluctantly consented to Antonio's silent demand for patience and waited for a gap in the traffic before rushing out and they reached the other side of the street without incident. Antonio was the first to speak, cautiously under his breath.

"Well, that went better than I expected it to. The inspector is certainly a stubborn one."

Lovino coughed roughly into his hand before croaking a response. It had taken it out of him to keep a straight face back there when all he had really wanted was to lie down there on the table and sleep, and for the moment it was his chance to be an invalid, all as long as he kept walking at a reasonable pace.

"I knew he would be. I'm glad he saw sense in the end though, even if it hurt him to side with a Vargas. I am kinda glad he didn't shoot me, that's always a plus."

Lovino was aware of Antonio wincing at the poorly timed joke, and he dropped the conversation to just focus on walking and breathing at the same time. Part of the reason they'd been held up was that Lovino struggled with the journey and public transport was out of the question in case they were spotted. What should have been a quick walk for a pair of young men had become a stumble that took twice the time. Even now the effort to hurry was making him feel light headed and ill but he swallowed it down.

"You know," the bodyguard said after a short silence with the slow, soothing tone of a man talking to an injured animal, looking at Lovino out of the corner of his eye, hands behind his back. "Perhaps two meetings in one day wasn't the best of our ideas. I would feel better if we went home-"

Lovino stopped in his tracks causing an old lady behind him to swerve to avoid him. She tutted her way past as the crowd parted around their prone figures. Antonio looked sheepish under his gaze and Lovino was glad; he damn well should.

"We cannot go back with a job half done, it won't help him at all." Lovino knew the street was loud enough to mask their conversation but he didn't want to risk names so out in the open. "Everything needs to be finalised by the time the week is out."

Antonio pulled him gently away from the edge of the pavement and to the safety of the inner hedge that surrounded the park to their right. _They were so close to their meeting place now, and yet they were still discussing this... _Lovino couldn't help but lean against the jutting protrusion of the small wall that guarded the park hedges from the outside path. He hoped Antonio didn't notice how he had to close his eyes over the wave of dizziness that stopping had caused and take a second to just _breathe_.

"Lovino," he began, and Lovino resented just how reasonable Antonio's tone was as he lightly touched his hand in what he supposed was meant to be a comforting manner. "I just don't think you're up to bargaining with him today. We need him and we have to make sure we have him. I know you want it done quick, and Peter doesn't have a lot of time left, but-"

"It has to be done before the end of the week." Lovino repeated wearily. He didn't like standing still, even with the sun blaring down on him he still felt chilled. At least walking kept him warmer, keeping still made his head ache and limbs scream. Antonio might have been talking sense but they both knew it was folly, especially since this meeting had been so specially arranged. They only had one chance at this and he had to take it.

"Grandpa has booked our annual tickets for the opera." It was where Roma had gone this afternoon in fact, a trip to the country to calm his nerves after a stressful week followed by the ticket collection and business trips. It was an all day arrangement and Roma would not be home while late. These trips had been going as long as Lovino could remember, as the opera was a place to see and be seen, and also a great cover for business. They went at the end of every summer so that the could see certain partners before they left town for the season. It had fallen so well in terms of their plan it was as if God himself had arranged it.

"He won't make any decisions before then, he'll want to enjoy the opera first but after that Peter is _screwed_. Arthur won't back down even if it means losing his boy and Grandpa wants to send a message. Peter and Eliza need to be gone before all that kicks off. And maybe, just maybe, the opera will be a chance for grandpa to feel more in control again once he's lost the boy, meaning he might not chase it up. We could get away with this, Antonio. But we need to have this meeting first."

He had been stood still too long and the shake had started back up in his body again. Nearby a clock tolled half the hour. There was still a chance their man was there for their meeting, and with that chance meant that this whole plan would run more smoothly. The bodyguard knew this and with Antonio's eyes locked onto Lovino's own, he practically saw the fight leave the Spaniard's eyes. Antonio nodded swiftly, pushing down obvious frustration as he steered Lovino ahead of him and into the park.

Most public places had a plethora of people lounging in them during the summer months, but this park was mostly a quiet one. It was quite a small park for one, a walk round the place could take no longer than ten minutes. The closest apartments housed older people and young families, who were unlikely to take in the heat of the day because they were working or because it was cooler inside. It meant that the place was almost empty, quiet and sheltered from the sun it was like stepping off of the street and into a secluded bubble. Across the top of a well tended bushel, Lovino could just make out a small family coaxing ducks by the pond, and as he was scanning the park an old couple wandered past with their arms linked. They nodded pleasantly at them and Antonio tipped his hat in greeting right as Lovino finally spotted them and his heart stopped a little.

_They could still do this._ He pushed Antonio on the arm to get his attention. "There, look."

But in his usual observing-but-not-looking-like-he-was way, the bodyguard nodded to show he had already seen the pair. Lovino had to resist the urge to hit him as the Spaniard made the first move, walking openly towards the man and woman on the bench close to them; the man absorbed in a newspaper, and the lady looking intently at the flowers which were bedded before them.

They were just behind the pair and Lovino was getting his thoughts in order when the man spoke up.

"You two have a very interesting way of getting a man's attention. Have you by any chance considered a career in novel writing? I bet you could give that Conen Doyle fella a lesson in mystery."

Lovino couldn't help but pull a face of dislike when the newspaper was thrust downwards and the speaker turned in his seat to reveal the pale, grinning face of Gilbert Beilschmitt. Beside him, Birdie turned also, eyeing them curiously from under a feminine wave of hair, her gaze lingering particularly long on Lovino. The female 'costume' somehow seemed right for this meeting, under the book as it was.

"Wow, you look like shit my friend." Gilbert commented, pulling a false-concerned expression that made Lovino want to headbutt him again. But that wouldn't have been a good start to the meeting at all. Instead Lovino allowed the pair to stare at him even though he felt uncomfortable; at least the Inspector hadn't been able to look past his own fury to give a damn about his physical health.

"It seems like the grapevine was right for once, you have been unwell. Ivan won't be pleased to find out you're not dead though, he was kinda looking forward to it. Although to be honest you do look-"

Antonio, despite being a bit of an idiot, at least had his back and defused the situation somewhat. "We're not here to discuss that," W_as is Lovino or did he sound just that little bit cross?_ "You got my message then?"

"The cryptic little note in the paper?" Gilbert raised his hand to shake the offending object at them, and he briefly caught the impression of the wanted adds page. "I didn't really think that was your style-"

"You're right, it's yours." Antonio said quickly, stepping forward. They were quite far away from the other two still and it probably looked a little odd to any passers by who might see their conversation from afar. "Which is why I suggested to put it in there, I know you read the paper and that you would be likely to see it. We were worried you wouldn't come."

Gilbert heaved himself out of the chair and laughed. There was smug turn to his mouth as he looked back at them that Lovino really didn't like. "Well, curiosity might have killed the cat but that certainly hasn't put me off. I must admit, I was interested in what the little heir had to say to me after nearly breaking my nose."

Lovino could almost taste the poison to Gilbert's words. He found the opening staring from Gilbert and Birdie very off-putting, even more so than when Arthur had been sat across from him and wishing murder upon him. At least on that occasion they both knew what the other wanted. This time it was a game of cat and mouse, and Lovino was certainly the mouse begging for his piece of cheese.

He had to speak up. "I wanted to make a deal. I have a problem Antonio says you might be able to deal with-"

He was stopped by a pale hand rising into the air. "Please, let's not do this across a park. We're gentlemen aren't we? Or at least you're meant to be, little heir. Let's talk this out man to man, no seconds, just you and me having a few frank words about business."

Antonio spoke before Lovino could even open his mouth. "I am not consenting to that Gilbert."

Birdie let out a whistle, one that was monotone and dull and did a funny gesture with her hand that was like a birds beak closing which made Gilbert laugh; although not much seemed to make him unhappy.

"As Birdie says, if we can't talk alone then we can't talk at all." Was that what that meant? "We need to approach this conversation like equals or it doesn't go ahead. How am I meant to know that this isn't some sort of set up? You have my word I won't lay a finger on his head, although I'm sure a strong breeze would probably knock him over right now."

Antonio made another move to refuse but Lovino, expecting it, got there first. "Fine," It made his shaky legs even more so to agree to the conversation alone but what choice did he have? If this was how it would have to be then so be it. "Fine, I agree-"

"Lovino-"

He didn't speak, partly because it hurt to do so, but partly because his expression spoke volumes. They had literally had this conversation moments ago. If Antonio was not willing to agree to this conversation going ahead under Gilbert's terms then it wouldn't happen, and it needed to. Their plan relied on it.

Antonio pinched his mouth together, clearly torn by the circumstances but under Lovino's firm gaze he relented. He nodded and took a step back as Lovino moved to meet Gilbert who had already stepped out from behind the bench and had begun moving around the park. He had to hurry to catch him up and was almost thankful when he continued walking. He felt better on the move and he would be able to concentrate better. Walking so close to Gilbert, even at a reasonable pace though was odd enough as it was. His nerves were on edge. Never had he thought they would be in such a position, and perhaps the same was true of Gilbert who kept his mouth shut until they were far enough away from Antonio and Birdie for them to not hear what was said.

"We better get this over with quickly, little boss man."

That struck a nerve.

"Believe me the sooner I get rid of you the better." The abuse slipped out before Lovino could stop it but it bounced off Gilbert's ego like water off an window. He wasn't the type to be offended it seemed, where he had expected a cold eye Lovino got only a nod of understanding.

"Personally I don't want to keep those too waiting." He explained. Their pace was casual and smooth but Lovino's heart was still pounding in his chest like they were running. "Bridget isn't one to be overly anxious in these circumstances, but Antonio seems very concerned for you."

Bridget must have been Birdie's name, which threw Lovino almost as much as the fact that Gilbert was being so conscientious. Lovino looked over his shoulder at the pair who were waiting by the bench, although neither of them were sat down. They weren't focused on each other, but rather their attention was fixed on watching Lovino and Gilbert make their way around the park. It was comforting in a way to see that Birdie looked equally unsure as Antonio, as if she wasn't as concerned Lovino might have thought that this was a double cross after all.

"Have you known her long?" The dark eyes under the dyed hair, plus this whole dressing-as-a-man thing fascinated Lovino enough to ask. Plus he wasn't overly confident he could talk about the plan just yet.

Gilbert blinked and looked bemused at the polite, everyday nature of the question before answering.

"We've known each other a few years now. I helped her out of a rough patch back when I first started working for Ivan. I'm not saying of course the patch we're in now isn't as stony as hell but at least we're not alone. I've never been one to pick the easy road and she is happy enough to travel along it with me. What's the story with you and my old pal then?"

Antonio's eyes were firmly fixed on Lovino's own and before he broke away to look back at Gilbert, he caught the impression of a supportive smile forming on the other man's lips.

"He saved my life," It felt weird talking about these sort of things to a man like Gilbert, who was for all purposes an enemy of the family. "He happened to be walking nearby when Ivan's goons tried it on, a total accident really. He's kinda just stuck around after."

Gilbert laughed loudly. "Antonio never struck me as a guy to just 'stick around', _Freund_." His tone was surprisingly serious as he glanced back in the others' direction, only to return with a smirk adorning his lips. "He must be staying for something."

"Maybe he has a serious need for dangerous and unpromising situations."

"Perhaps." Lovino did not like the way that Gilbert was scrutinising him, especially since he was the one to start the conversation and it had turned into an examination on himself. He turned the conversation quickly back onto its original course, as much as he really didn't want to be having this talk, and with Gilbert of all people.

He took a deep breath. "So, the reason I called you here-"

"Let me guess," He drawled as they walked through a particularly dense patch of trees that dotted out the sunlight over their heads. Gilbert couldn't help but make himself even more annoying than he already was through his interruption."You have a grand and impressive plan to stop Ivan increasing his territory in the city, which will thereby save your grandfather's business and your fortune. Everything will be returned to rights and you want me, as one of Ivan's closest men, to lend his brave and compassionate hand to help you in your endeavour."

_What on earth?_ "No-"

"Perhaps something a little simpler then?" Lovino had to grit his teeth again his yell of irritation. _This was why he had wanted Antonio to support him, this man was impossible._ "You said I would need my skills, so you have somehow found a piece of art or jewellery from one of your contacts. It's obviously worth quite a bit, clearly stolen, and therefore on a normal market it's unsaleable, so you want me to strike you a good deal, hm?"

Gilbert was playing with him and it was infuriating. It was one of the reasons he hadn't really wanted to involve him in this mess, it was bad enough as it was without him making a joke about it. But Antonio had built up a case for involving him that Lovino couldn't disagree with, so he ploughed into the truth.

"My grandfather has abducted the youngest son of the inspector who has been building a case against him in a bid to get him to leave our family alone. They're both as stubborn as mules, but only my grandfather has the upper hand so the child is as good as dead." Lovino was aware that he shouldn't perhaps tell everything to this other man, but he did like how Gilbert had suddenly gone very silent.

"On top of that my maid's husband was accused of being a snitch, so my grandfather had him removed. It is only a matter of time before he fixes his attention on her as well. I need the child and her out of the city. I already have the Inspector's backing in this, but if you agree to help me you will make things a whole lot easier."

Speaking about it all made Lovino realise what a mess they were really in, and that doubled with walking so much made him breathless. It was a second or two before he proceeded that Gilbert was no longer with him. Lovino looked around blindly for him, and found him stood a few feet back with his mouth slightly open in shock. He must have stopped walking at some point. It struck Lovino, that where Ludwig would have remained stoic and calm his brother was the complete opposite and played his emotions on his sleeve: they had the same nose though and it was odd to see it in the middle of the park as he admitted his plan of betrayal.

"You're telling me," Gilbert seemed to come back to himself and walked slowly to catch Lovino up. "that you want me to help you disobey your grandfather?"

"I'm not disobeying him if he never told me to do otherwise." It was a nitpicking point, but it was one that Lovino had to keep reminding himself of to keep himself sane. Thinking about it too much made him feel light headed- _or was that just how he felt in general today_? He didn't realise he was swaying until Gilbert reached him and put both hands on his shoulders to stop him moving. His dark eyes were concerned, and not just with his physical state.

"Let's sit you down, you look like shit." He muttered. Lovino allowed himself to be steered towards a thankfully close by bench and sat himself down on it. As he caught his breath he saw Gilbert waving his hand to dismiss something, and following his gaze Lovino saw Antonio stop in his tracks from where he had been attempting to move forward. The Spaniard's face was pale and worried, and Lovino half heard Gilbert mutter something scornfully that sounded suspiciously like 'just stuck around' before he sat down next to him. To the casual on looker they would have looked like two acquaintances relaxing on a park bench, the reality was a little less glamorous.

"So, you're going against your family then?" He got straight to the point. Gilbert understood this a whole lot more than Arthur and William had, and it hurt to hear those words used against him. "I understand you think your intentions are good, and I'm failing to find fault with them, but jeez Lovino, don't you think this is a bit extreme?"

Lovino closed his eyes to let that wash over him. Perhaps he was being a bit extreme, but he had been even more so with Roderich. He owed it to his friend that no one else would suffer from this whole affair. If Lovino could pull this off he would be able to rest a little easier; but that still didn't stop the fact he was going against everything he knew.

"What do you suggest I do instead? I cannot leave these people to my grandfather."

Gilbert tsked loudly and stretched out his legs in front of him. "I'm speaking from the other side, and in any other situation you probably shouldn't listen to me, but even I know this goes against _everything_."

Lovino coughed into his hand and internally moaned. C_ouldn't Gilbert just agree so he could go home? _"Which is why Antonio said to speak to you. He's says you're good at that, the best."

He was more than aware that asking Gilbert to do this would be asking the enemy for help, but also asking Gilbert himself to go against Ivan as his boss. He was sure that the other man would not be pleased with one of his men helping out the Vargas clan and the police with them, but Antonio had been the one to suggest this whole side to the plan. He was appealing the the better nature of a man he really didn't like at all and he was unsurprised when Gilbert scowled at him.

"I am, but I've built my life around getting out of messes. I don't think you quite understand the nature of what it is you're doing here. You're risking everything you are on the lives of two people-"

"Three, Eliza is pregnant-"

"Irrelevant." Gilbert scolded, although his face told another story. He was clearly disturbed by this whole story, more than maybe he was letting on. "Two, three or even fifty, it's a large gamble to take. What do you even have in mind here?"

"We'll get them out of the city and somewhere where grandpa doesn't have any influence. I've already arranged the tickets and they will be joined by a police escort, in case they are followed."

"And Roma will just hand over the boy with open arms will he?" Gilbert asked. Lovino couldn't help but feel spoken down too, and despite the pounding in his head he fought back.

"Of course not, but this is where you come in." He explained. "I need someone not linked to the family to steal him away, an outsider who is willing to do right by someone. I know where the boy is, and who has him, but it would be easier to have someone else take him away. I cannot ask someone from my circle in case they are seen. My grandfather already has issues with your boss, and if you are seen taking the child it will be just another incident. The plan is for me to fake a trip to see the child, you will get him away and on to the next meeting point."

Gilbert mulled this over. It took a moment before he spoke again, and all he managed was an unsure, "That's it?"

"That's it." Lovino sighed. He was struck with a need to make a better case and added on quickly. "The boy is only young, and Eliza has been my friend for a long time. I cannot allow what happened to Roderich happen to them. But I also cannot make you help me even though this scheme will work better with your help than without it. Antonio assures me you are a good man. I have my doubts, but you are more than welcome to prove me wrong. This is between the two of us, no families, no ties, just one man to another. Even though it hurts me to say it, I need your help."

Lovino found his eyes drawn back over to Birdie and Antonio who were dutifully watching their conversation from the other side of the park. He thought a little about what Gilbert had said, and wondered for the hundredth time why Antonio was indeed staying with him when all he brought was more pain and anguish to his life. He was so caught up in these thoughts that he jumped when Gilbert, who had been deep in thought, let out a frustrated groan and rubbed his face as if trying to rid something from it.

"I was more than ready to say no to you today, just as a payment for hitting me in the face." Lovino's heart flew to his mouth as the other man turned on him in annoyance, eyes bright with emotion. "But damn it if you aren't the man I thought you were. I will help you, but you better start talking business and let me tell you, I don't come cheap."

oOo

**I tried to have an air of mystery with who was involved in this big scheme, hopefully that came across well. If it was at all unclear, Antonio and Lovino put an add in the wanted adds section of the newspaper for Gilbert, something cryptic that only he would see/understand. I like to think Gilbert would love that sort of thing!**

**The plan itself will be unfolding over the next chapter or so! Hopefully I won't struggle as much this time round. **

**Thanks again for all the reviews etc. they mean the world to me to know that people enjoy what I love doing :)**

**Until next time!**


	39. The Plan Begins

**Another update for you- Lovino's plan is moving ahead now! **  
><strong>Thanks to all the reviews and favourites as always, means a lot guys!<strong>

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer- none of the characters are mine. There's also a mention of domestic abuse in this chapter so be warned.**

oOo

Mathias wasn't sure how he felt about being an honorary baby sitter, despite whether he was getting paid extra for it or not. He wasn't sure what it was exactly, but there was certainly a feeling of dislike for the position of responsibility which it left him in. It was bad enough having to look after Lukas; all of that extra food, care and whatnot it added up to time and money he just didn't have. He was a bachelor and had lived alone out of choice for as long as he could remember. Children were just the type of heavy duty care he couldn't deal with. There was a reason Mathias had never fathered a kid (as far as he knew anyway) and that was because he was inexperienced in looking after anyone that was not himself.

He was pretty certain they needed to eat and sleep as any normal human would, that much was obvious. But he was also pretty sure they were meant to play and go to school and do something that wasn't just _crying_.

Which led onto the more demanding matter of his feelings about the whole situation. His little house guest wasn't a normal child and he wasn't really just baby sitting. He was holding the inspector's son until Roma saw fit to say otherwise, if anything he was looking after a package for him, one that needed sleep and food. The boss was a man of uncertain moods so this state could mean anything from minutes to weeks.

He wasn't sure how he felt about being baby sitter, but he certainly didn't like this whole chain of events. Stealing children away from their parents was a line he never thought he would have to cross, but Mathias knew what was good for him and that was to keep his mouth shut and do as he was told.

"Cries a lot doesn't he?" Mathias half joked into the silence of the sitting room. He and Lukas were sat with little more to do than keep an eye on the boy in the other room and wait for further instructions. The lad had stayed huddled in the bedroom corner since they had taken him, barely eaten the food they had provided and cried when he awake. He hadn't attempted to escape and hadn't spoken a word since seeing his brother smashed into the floor by Sadiq, and that was days and days ago now. Mathias knew shock when he saw it and he hated not being able to do anything to help seeing as he was part of the group that had caused the distress in the first place.

It was the middle of the afternoon, and the city was sunning itself in the warm glow of the sun. The people who passed by his window looked cheerful enough despite where they lived; it was not often people in this quarter of the town smiled, but the weather had positive effects on them all. Well, perhaps not all. In the apartment above his own, the man who lived there with his wife was having a steaming row with her as usual which would most likely end in violence. Mathias didn't like it but years of experience had taught him the need to tune out other peoples' dramas because it did not do to pry into anyone's affairs if you wanted your own to be left well enough alone. There was an unsaid law to the way of life on the wrong side of the tracks and that was that you didn't interfere. Matthias flinched but didn't comment on the sound of a glass smashing on the floor above. This way of life suited him just fine, what with Lukas shouting at all hours and their new flatmate snivelling in the bedroom, he appreciated the need for silence all round.

Everyone had their secrets.

However, Lukas hadn't actually been as loud during the nights in the past week or so. His nightmares when he had them seemed violent but they were becoming less frequent now and he no longer woke up screaming like a banshee. He seem to have relaxed into what Mathias could only call a detached stupor. He didn't know what was worse; the terror or the withdrawal. Day after day his companion would sit like a ghost, staring into the distance and only speak when addressed or if the need arose. After all the problems with Roderich , Lukas' silence was unnerving as a change in behaviours suggested a change in attitudes. Mathias was a coward and hated himself for it, but he just wasn't able to bring it up with the other man over fear of what he would discover. So far he had nothing but a sick suspicion of what could be the truth, but Lukas was either a really good actor or he knew nothing about the betrayal in Roma's household.

He really hoped it was the latter option.

Lukas looked up from his blank staring at the bedroom door to shrug. His dark eyes were sharp but distant from him. "Wouldn't you?"

Matthias was not in the mood for a discussion on moral or feelings, especially when it broached the right and wrongs of the boss's orders. He quickly changed the subject.

"Did anyone come by or call while I was out this morning?" That morning he had been on a quick trip to the shop down the road for essentials. Luckily Roma had given him more than enough for an extra house guest, but only for a certain amount of days. Mathias didn't dare ask for more. The money was running out pretty quickly now and in that way so was the kid's time.

"No." They were speaking in hushed voices, their conversation covered by the shouts and now bangs from the room above. At least _she_ hadn't really started yet, that was the worst part.

"Did he say anything?"

Lukas shook his head in a negative and resumed his blank staring. _Great, so much for conversation_. If only Matthias had a wireless, then the could listen to something that wasn't-

_Wait, was that the door_?

He couldn't be certain with all the noise from upstairs, but Mathias had thought he heard a firm knock amongst all the other bangs. He glanced to the kitchen, just in his line of sight, and saw the tell-tale shadow of a figure stood at the door round the back of the house, the only entrance to the building. Someone was indeed knocking to be let into his home.

Mathias stood and picked up a small handgun which he kept close to him, fitting the weapon into his pocket quickly as he had not expected anyone today. Roma would call if he sent anyone; it could of course have been Sadiq or Heracles, forgetting to let him know they were coming but it was always better to be safe than sorry. It wasn't exactly a nice part of the city. Hurrying past Lukas who barely batted an eyelid and ignoring the soft sniffles in the bedroom, Matthias entered the kitchen to answer the door. The glass over the window was frosted and the window filthy, so he didn't get chance to see who was knocking before opening the door.

Which was why he had a massive shock.

"Good afternoon Mr Khøler." Lovino Vargas was meant to be recovering from knocking on deaths door not stood outside his, but there he was larger than life with that cheerful bodyguard of his grinning behind him. The young man was pale but nodded politely at him. "Sorry for the suddenness of the visit, but may I come in?"

Mathias wasn't sure what to do with his face, but he was pretty certain standing with his mouth hanging open wasn't overly polite. He closed it quickly but did not move.

"Sir?" He put all his uncertainty into the question. He rarely saw the eldest of Roma's boys out of the big house, never mind in his home. In fact he had never seen the boss himself in this part of town. Lovino's suit and jacket were extremely crisp in the dismal setting of his back steps which lead out onto bins and rats nests. _What on earth could he want there of all places_?

"Perhaps we could take this inside?" He replied, one dark eyebrow arching at him challengingly. Of course, it would certainly look strange to any passers by for two men like these to be stood at his door, and in their business it wouldn't do to be seen. Feeling like an idiot Mathias quickly jumped out of the way to allow Lovino and his bodyguard to enter the building without further complaint, his mind whirring away in confusion as he did so. They stepped into the kitchen and Antonio shut the door behind them, grinning and acting as a complete contrast to his charge's sullen face.

Mathias noticed how he was just _stood_ there in the dingy kitchen with his future boss staring at his expectantly. It was with a touch of awkwardness that he realised that they had never actually spoken much despite Mathias having known Lovino since he was a young boy. He wasn't sure how to act around him. As a young man he was imposing, no longer the shy reserved younger he had first met, he had metamorphosed into something both alike and unalike his grandfather. Roma expected nothing but obedience, but Lovino seemed to expect something and Mathias wasn't sure what that was.

"Erm, come through." He made the decision to move and led the pair into the sitting room. He had forgotten about Lukas; the other man looked more than surprised to see their new house guests and sat up straight in his seat. The way he was watching Lovino made Mathias feel anxious so he was quick to try to break the tension. "This is my friend-"

Lovino held up his hand to stop him blabbering. "Lukas, yes I remember. We met at my Grandfather's party. Hello again, I hope you're well."

By the dark look that had crossed Antonio's face he too remembered Lukas from the last time they had met at the party. He was still smiling but the grin had lost some of its rounded edges and looked sharper somehow. Lukas didn't respond to Lovino's greeting but sunk further into the seat's deflated cushions like a wild animal cautiously watching the situation from a safe vantage point. Mathias gritted his teeth together at the awkward interaction, he probably should have anticipated Lukas being odd after their last meeting, but he wasn't sure how to get him out of the room now. Antonio's attention was only diverted when Lovino coughed roughly into his hand, instantly turning concerned and back to neutral once the episode had passed.

"Um...Are you feeling any better now, sir?" Mathias asked, feeling uneasy. He had not been privy to the boy's bed chamber when he had been sick but Lukas had told him about the mess he was in when he had chanced to see him on that first day, and he had heard enough talk between Viktor and Roma to know the boy been very sick. The rumour was that he had nearly kicked the bucket, but that was from Sadiq so it could have been total rubbish. Either way, the idea of the boss' grandson pushing himself to come and see him made his stomach grumble in anxiety.

Lovino nodded at the question and shook his head as if trying to clear his ears, blinking profusely.

"I am well enough, thank you." He didn't sound it at all but he smiled patiently at the question. Lovino took in a wide sweeping glance around the room for the first time, and Mathias noticed how there was no where for him to sit. His bedroom had been taken up by Peter so that his living room was permanently doubling up as a sleeping area for both of the men, Lukas was on the only other chair and the sofa was his bed. Red faced and mumbling an apology Mathias hurried to shove the cushions and blankets to one side so that Lovino could sit down, Antonio moving to stand by his side.

Even with him seated, Mathias still felt ill at ease. _What on earth was this all about_? Mathias knew he wasn't exactly the most welcoming of hosts but he guessed he should at least try, "Would you like a drink or..?"

Lovino shook his head and saved him the trouble. "No thank you, this should only be a short visit. I've actually come to check on Peter. My grandfather is out on business and has allowed me come in his place."

Of _course_, Peter. That made a lot of sense. More than anything else that had been running through his head in any case. Mathias almost laughed in relief but the bubble of anxiety in his stomach hadn't popped just yet. Not with Lukas still watching the pair with a silent scowl.

"Would you like me to fetch him now?" He said, but at that moment the door to the bedroom creaked attraction open a fraction and Peter Kirkland peeked out. His face was wan but his eyes we large and fixed on Lovino's face with a mixture of shock and fear. There were snail lines of tears down his face but he was clearly otherwise unharmed. Mathias had not been the only one to hear the sound and when the new pair turned their attention to the door and Peter beyond it, the boy panicked and slammed the thing shut. Embarrassed at the display, Mathias made to follow Peter and drag him before Lovino, but the boss' grandson stopped him.

"There's honestly no rush, let him adjust to the new people first." The shouting in the apartment above which everyone seemed to just ignore before now suddenly reached a violent point, and Lovino looked up at the ceiling in horror as if he could see the scene beyond. He looked quite ill. "What lovely neighbours you have Mr Køhler..."

Lukas snorted in derision; if Mathias had been closer to him he would have kicked him to make him shut up.

"They could be a lot worse." he argued, which was very true. The apartment he had before this one had more neighbours around him with even worse habits than occasionally beating up their wives and that was saying something. "And please, call me Mathias."

"Mathias," Lovino surprised him by nodding in agreement; he hadn't thought that he actually liked him enough to be on a first name basis. The nod seemed to make him dizzy though as he blinked profusely before speaking. _He said he was better but he still looked terrible..._ "You will have to forgive me for asking, but I don't believe I actually know what it is you do for my grandfather. I know you've been with us for quite a while now."

Out of the corner of his eye, Mathias was aware of Lukas staring intently at Lovino, watching him like a hawk. _Why on earth was he looking at him like that_? Mathias was not interest a re-play of the other evening at the party, and if Lukas was sober this time things would be much worse. Perhaps that was the only reason he was so quiet, because if he opened his mouth Lukas would say something and the thought terrified Mathias beyond belief. Antonio would surely not hold back this time. He wished they would hurry up and leave so he could sort Lukas' attitude out with a few choice words.

Mathias shuffled uncomfortably. "It's been a fair few years now. I started out as a runner, I don't really have a title but I guess you could say I coordinate some of the liquor raids." Amongst other things of course.

"Of course," Lovino said, glancing up at Antonio to draw him into the conversation, the bodyguard grinning down at him. Mathias doubted that Roma would have ever done the same for Viktor who usually was seen but not heard. "I suppose you think America is a weird place."

"I certainly don't see the need for all these anti drinking laws. In Spain people were just responsible and saw no need to go over the top."

Mathias had to laugh at that one, but even to his ears it sounded strained.

"People here aren't that smart. But if you ask me a couple of housewives got their knickers in a twist over nothing. There's nothing wrong with a few drinks after a long day of work, for any man or woman."

"It seems like good business though." Antonio noted. Mathias had never really heard him speak but he seemed a decent guy, a lot more chatty than Viktor's grandkid and very relaxed. It was a surprise that he had chosen the profession of a bodyguard at all. "Opened up a whole new market for business men like Mr Vargas while giving the police something else to do. How long has the prohibition been in place now?"

"Too long, I can't remember the last legal drink I had."

It was at that moment that Mathias noticed Lovino had begun to sway slightly on his seat while they had been talking. He was blinking way too much to be normal and looked horribly pale. _Oh god, he wasn't going to pass out in his house was he?_ The boss was going to kill him, _oh no_-

Luckily Antonio spotted it before Mathias needed to intervene and turned to him with a bright smile.

"I think we will take that glass of water if you're still offering it." He said before turning to his charge and muttering something in a quick undertone which Mathias didn't catch apart from the dazed nodded response it elicited from Lovino. Feeling flustered Mathias jumped straight into action, charging into the kitchen in search of the glass of water.

He almost cried in despair when he saw the state of his kitchen. It had been a while since he had the time or even the energy to clean up after himself and now it was his downfall. There were mountains of used cutlery, plates and glasses on his side, a quick check in every cupboard proved they were not only empty but every utensil he owned seemed to have been in use. Mathias almost screamed.

He was blindly attempting to find a glass he could clean back to life without potentially giving Lovino cholera when he heard the door shut lightly behind him. Turning, he found Lukas stood moodily by the closed door, shutting off the access to the living room. The kitchen faced away from the midday sun and the room was quite dark after the brightness of the sitting room so his thin face was forced into harsh shadows which highlighted his drastic weight loss.

Lukas shocked Mathias by speaking, "Why are they here?"

Mathias did not like his tone though.

"Someone from the big house has to check up on the boy at some point." He dismissed, keeping his voice down in case they might hear them. Lukas shook his head and advanced on him in the jerky walk he had adopted lately.

"Something isn't right," He argued back. Luckily Luka's voice was also low, and with the argument still seething above it was unlikely Lovino or Antonio would hear their conversation. Mathias just didn't have time for it right now. "They've never come here before have they? Is this about the other night?"

What night was he even talking about?There were so many...

"Look," Mathias hurriedly turning to the sink and cleaning the least dirty glass he could find with a shaky hand. The cool water almost spilt over the top. "I'm not sure what your problem is, Lukas, but Lovino is here to help out his grandfather. He's just running an errand."

"Don't you think it's suspicious? It's like he's checking up on us." Whatever paranoia Lukas had about the Vargas' needed to stop now for his own good. With the potential threat in the next room Mathias rounded on the other man with finality, a full glass in hand.

"Listen to me Lukas," He had to resist putting his hands on the other man's shoulder because he wasn't quite sure it would be appropriate right then. He vaguely remembered the night Emil had died and the broken man on his sofa, now Lukas' eyes were hard and cold. "Roma Vargas pays for you to _live_. You work for _him_, and by extension that covers his grandchildren as well. Lovino is the heir to the whole damn business, and you better show him some respect before you end up like their butler. Those two are here to see the boy: not to check up on _you_, unless of course you have something to hide. Now, if you don't mind, I'm not house proud but I would rather he didn't vomit all over my floor, so move out of the way."

For a moment Mathias was sure Lukas would only move if it involved hitting him. Instead he gritted his fists together and moved to one side, allowing Mathias to hurry past and back into the living room without further contest except the horrible feeling in his stomach that something was very, very wrong with his flat mate.

Lovino seemed to have recovered a bit while they were in the kitchen. The bodyguard had somehow helped him to gain some of his senses, and Antonio removed a protective hand from his charge's back as Mathias entered with the water.

"I'm sorry," Lovino said earnestly as he accepted the glass with a shaking hand and took a slow sip. "I think it's the medication the doctor has given me, it makes me quite dizzy. I want to get back to normal but it's been hard with these episodes, I apologise if I gave you a bit of a fright there."

Mathias would have been more than frightened if the beloved grandson of his boss had passed out onto his dirty floor, he would have probably punched himself in the face to save Roma the trouble. It would have obviously not been his fault if anything like that happened to Lovino, but where Roma's heir was concerned he didn't really want to take the risk.

Of course he couldn't say this. Nor could he press for them to leave sooner, but with Lukas hovering in the kitchen doorway with eyes like daggers he had to try.

"Did you want to see the boy then?"

Antonio shot him a dirty look at his terrible timing but Lovino nodded.

"Yes please, I could do with getting back soon." Mathias wanted to give Lukas something to do to get him out of the way, and fetching the boy was simple enough. With a quick glance behind him, Mathias motioned for him to get Peter. He did not appreciate the sigh and eye roll the other man sent his way but he let it slide with Lovino sat there watching him. Upstairs the fight had stopped and an eerie silence had settled instead. Lukas disappeared into the bedroom.

"He won't be a second." Mathias promised, and it was true. Lukas reappeared at the door, looking angry but somehow scared and with...out...

"He's not there." The words barely registered. What, no that couldn't be-

"What?" Antonio snapped, looking annoyed. "Don't be stupid. He was right there a second ago, he's probably just hiding."

Lukas visibly swallowed and shook his head. He locked eyes with Mathias who could feel his hands start to shake. No, _no_. "The window was wide open. Peter is not there."

A long pause, and then everyone jumped into action at once.

"Shit-"

"You have to be kidding me-"

"There's no where to hide in there except under the bed and unless he can turn invisible-"

"How long do you think-?"

Mathias found himself wandering into the bedroom, his heart sticking in his throat and pounding with each short breath he took. The experience was almost dreamlike, because this couldn't be real right now.

"You were meant to be watching him-"

"He hasn't eaten or slept properly in days there's no way he could have got out alone-"

"This is ridiculous-!"

Lukas was right. The bedroom was empty. No little boy crying in the corner, nothing in the wardrobe, nothing under the bed. The curtains trailed in a breeze brought on by the draft from the open window which looked out onto the empty street beyond. It had been locked, but there were marks on the edges as though someone had cranked it open with a jack. With all the racket upstairs Mathias hadn't heard a thing... How long had he been gone, minutes? Seconds?

"Right," Lovino had stood up and was taking charge as Mathias re-entered the sitting room, feeling light headed. His world was literally crashing around him because he had _one job_- "We need to find Peter. If this gets out it could be highly problematic for us all."

Mathias found his voice again to speak because he needed to redeem himself. "What do you suggest? This city is huge..."

Massive, colossal, a city in more than name it was almost a maze, a labyrinth. How would they find one child in all of it? Lovino was already moving towards the door as he spoke.

"There's only a few places a boy like him would or could go. Home or school. If he has outside help it might mean he has been taken to mess with our plans, so we cannot rule out Ivan's men." Lovino's tone was brisk but clear, and the orders made sense: Mathias was willing to follow them. "Take Lukas and fetch Sadiq. The three of you can check the Inspector's house, the school and Ivan's territory for any sign that the boy is there. I will go home and inform everyone what has happened, you never know: if it is one of Ivan's gang he might have sent a message there as well. I will leave a message for my grandfather as well."

"They might try and get him out of the city." Mathias intoned, thinking ahead. Anger was starting to burn at him now, firing away the numbness in his fingers and toes; those bastards would get what was coming to them soon enough. They had interfered for too long now.

Lovino nodded. "We will meet you at station if you don't get any luck anywhere else."

It was the only plan they had. And by God, Mathias could not fail in this one. He rounded on Lukas who was looking wary.

"You heard the boss, get a move on."

oOo

All things considered: the plan was going well so far.

The church squatted before them, a small browning building towered over by the larger ones surrounding it like a toad amongst reeds. Lovino was careful to keep his walk steady and calm even though he felt as jerky as a wind up toy stiffly moving in a masquerade of normality, Antonio matching his pace at his side. They had managed to get this far without incident, and if he didn't think it would jinx the whole thing he would have been allowing the time to congratulate himself. The first part of the plan was in motion, and with the biggest detail done the smaller pieces of the puzzle should in theory slot into place without a hitch. The stealing of Peter had gone better than expected; Gilbert had not been seen and Mathias and Lukas had fallen for the whole thing; he'd been able to order them onto the next stage of the plan, keeping them occupied until the final curtain fell.

Of course this was not over yet, not by a long shot as there were many things still left that could go so wrong. Lovino had indeed ticked off items from his plan, but there was still even more ahead of them. They were working against the clock after all and what if something were to-

_No_, he could not think like that.

As they entered the church yard Lovino's instincts were to dive into the building's cool depths, but reason made him measure each stride as they happened, and it was only when he reached the final stairs to the door that he allowed a short burst of speed. The doors were open under his hand and Lovino fled through them with Antonio on his heels, locking the door behind him as was planned.

Inside the church was a wave of confusion and noise that had he the time, Lovino would have paused in his tracks to take it all in. Every sound was amplified by the shape of the building and the sharp stomp of his and Antonio's feet added to this noise as he stormed forward, a tall figure hurrying to meet them.

"Thank goodness, you were almost a little late there." Scipio explained, looking haggard and grey but resolute as he kept stride with them. "You've lost a few minutes but if you hurry you will still be able to make it. I have everything ready for you, here."

He thrust an unremarkable bundle of cloth that he had been carrying with very little ceremony into Lovino's arms. They were clothes and smelt oddly, like the musty inside of a bible and Lovino passed the lot behind him to Antonio, following as Scipio overtook them to lead the way. The front of the church by the pew was busy. Lovino darted past Elizabeta who was tearfully listening to William as he spoke slowly through the design of the day. She had not been told anything until that morning in order to protect the plan, and the shock about what was happening was evident on her features. She barely looked at them as they passed, instead protectively holding her stomach from the room. Off to the left by the pew Gilbert and Birdie, who annoyingly hadn't left yet, were lounged against the pulpit looking bored while watching the source of the most of the noise. Peter and Arthur's reunion was a tearful one, the father simultaneously trying to hug his son and help him get changed as quickly as possible. Peter was crying furiously and clearly not cooperating well.

"No, no! Why do I have to leave?"

Arthur had seemed made of stone but he was certainly breaking under the strain. "Peter, _please_-"

"I'm sorry, I'll be good! Please don't send me away!"

Lovino turned his head from the scene and focused on breathing and the sway of Scipio's robe as he was ushered through a pair of double doors and into a thankfully quieter, if drabber part of the church where the people who managed it lived. It was a long unassuming corridor with tall windows and a few doors, no decoration except a large golden cross over a telephone on a small stand. Scipio turned to the first door on the right and opened it.

"You can get changed in here," Lovino was already moving past him and into the small bedroom and living space that must have been Scipio's own. It was handsome but plain and without decoration which seemed some what fitting for the situation. "I must get back to the others and see Eliza off, I think the inspector could perhaps do with a hand as well. I will let you know when Ludwig arrives if you aren't ready before then, but please hurry. You don't have much time."

Lovino resisted the urge to snap that he didn't need telling his own plan, but he didn't quite trust his mouth to work like he wanted it to so he merely nodded his understanding, already stripping himself of his coat before the door had even finished swinging on its hinges. He was shedding his shoes as Antonio shut the blinds which had been left open.

"You don't need to be in here you know." Lovino knew that Antonio would have been more use helping in the other room than stood watching him dress himself, but the other man held the bundle of clothes tightly and shook his head. If he'd had time Lovino would have stopped what he was doing to react to the unusual lack of response, but he didn't, so he merely slowed in the process of removing his suit jacket, shivering slightly in the frigid air.

"What is it?" Antonio wouldn't quite meet his eye. It couldn't be that he was uncomfortable watching him get changed as he'd done that plenty of times before, so what was wrong with him? He loosened his tie and moved onto his shirt buttons- _when had he got so damn many_?! "Antonio?"

The tie was off and he'd almost managed the buttons before Antonio finally spoke up, a dark edge to the words that Lovino had never heard before. "I'm not sure I'm comfortable with you doing this, Lovino."

He couldn't help it, but he ground to a stop like someone had put the breaks on and stared at his bodyguard in shock. Surely he could not have heard him right. It took a minute of staring at Antonio's darkened features before he realised that he was being deadly serious.

"It's a little late to have second thoughts now." Hadn't he given the okay to everything? His full support? He wasn't angry but Lovino allowed his frustration to be apparent in his tone. However, his annoyance grew when Antonio looked resolute. "I can't _not_ go through with the plan. You saw everyone out there- my part is crucial."

"And dangerous," Antonio argued, moving forward as Lovino tutted and turned from him to continue getting changed. He had struggled before with his buttons, but his hands has suddenly become like jelly. He really didn't have time for this right now, couldn't Antonio just drop it?

"You were fine helping to make it up." Lovino pointed out through clenched teeth, his voice shaking with the effort of of suppressing his annoyance. He still didn't look at him but he could feel the back of his neck and face starting to burn.

Antonio's tone was also shaky as he stupidly attempted to reason with him. "I know and I wish I hadn't now. I promised you I would keep you safe but this plan is the opposite of that and I cannot overlook it."

"You didn't care before-" Lovino would not look at him, he would _not_ fall into that trap.

"Because we didn't have much else to work with and I trusted your judgement." _What was that meant to even mean_? And was Antonio seriously raising his voice at him? Lovino made the mistake of looking back at him and regretted it immediately. The Spaniard looked a mixture of sad and angry, with the latter one being the most prominent but that only infuriated Lovino more. "And I have _always_ cared what happens to you. I know I can't take your place but I'm sure we could figure out a way to make this less dangerous for you."

"Are you _stupid_? You know I can't change things now." It had to be him, he didn't say it but it was both for the plan and his own conscience. It didn't seem right to put anyone in harms way for a start, but he couldn't forgive himself if he allowed himself to be protected from all danger. He had to take responsibility for his actions. This was apparently not the answer Antonio was after as he gritted his teeth together to hiss; Lovino had never seen him so mad and far from being scared it just annoyed him more. He felt himself bristle at the threat, he would not be moved on this matter, especially not now.

"You're putting yourself in harms way on purpose! Lying to your grandfather's men, transporting Peter, this whole damn idea is your way of dealing with this problem." Antonio snapped at him. Lovino would not listen to that rubbish, however true it was, from his _bodyguard_ of all people and instead he snatched the shirt from the top of the pile. He threw it over his head, ignoring the musty smell it gave off. "And I understand that and I will support you with everything for but you don't need to play hero. No one would judge you if you backed out."

_Idiot_, a certain someone who haunted his nightmares definitely would, but how would he know that? Antonio carried on regardless of the darkening expression on his charge's face as he quickly removed his bottoms, dragging on the tatty, used pair from the pile that were a good inch too short.

"For goodness sake, see sense! You're still unwell! I know it was 'part of the act' but don't lie and say that was all acting at Mathias' house. I honestly thought you were going to be out cold on his floor for a second-"

"That's none of your business!" Lovino had hoped that had gone unnoticed but nothing ever did with this man which was most likely what made him round on him in fury, snatching the remainder of the clothes away and throwing them onto the bed. _If he wasn't going to help him then what was the point him holding them_? It was childish Lovino knew that, but right now he didn't care. He wanted this conversation over.

Antonio however didn't take the hint and instead took the chance to throw up his empty hands in exasperation, his eyes wild. "None of my business? None of my _business_?! Lovino two weeks ago you nearly _died_!"

Lovino turned his back on him and resisted the urge to say 'so?'. Sometimes he thought it might have been easier if he had died, but the fact that he hadn't meant he was supposed to complete this scheme. That notion was hard enough to explain to himself so he ignored Antonio and growled in annoyance as he looked through the pile of clothes. _Where on earth was the fucking jacket_? He could practically feel Antonio stood behind him, demanding attention which only riled him more.

"I just want you to understand you could get injured in all of this, and I won't be there to help you this time. Imagine how your brother would feel if you were hurt, how I would feel-!"

"Then the only selfish one here is you right now!" When had they started shouting at each other? They had never argued before and suddenly here they were, tensions high and in each others faces and yelling. Lovino as a rule didn't like confrontation, bickering with Feliciano made him feel queasy but with Antonio is made his hands shake and his vision cloudy. "If you had a problem why didn't you say anything before, bastard?"

"Because I know how much this means to you!" Antonio shouted back with anger on his face but sadness in his eyes._ Why fucking interfere then-_?! "But I don't like it; I hate this whole situation. If I could go back in time and stop it I would. There's a hundred and one things that could go wrong today, and I'm frightened for you Lovino!"

"I can look after myself." Lovino huffed nastily in response, recoiling from the sentiment behind those words. Years of looking after himself had poisoned him against all forms of feeling, and Antonio's passion was too much for him right now when there was already so much going on.

Antonio visibly took a deep breath and Lovino tensed up ready for the next assault-

But the door opened suddenly beside them and snapped the moment in two. One second they were yelling in each others' faces and the next it felt like the world came rushing back; it was if he had been running and then he'd hit a wall mid-step. In the split second before he saw who opened the door, Lovino was suddenly very aware how close he and Antonio were standing and how itchy the clothes were on his shoulders.

It was Ludwig who stood in the open doorway looking shocked at the scene he had wandered in on, his hand on the door handle hovering above it slightly before settling back down as if he was tempted to close the door and try again. Lovino and Antonio moved away from each other in the same fluid movement, resolutely keeping their eyes diverted from each other. The argument had made Lovino's senses hypersensitive and he was able to pick out each stitch holding the discoloured button onto his shirt as he looked down. Ludwig seemed unsure what to do but despite this he sounded resolute when he eventually spoke.

"Gentlemen, we're on a strict time scale here." He scolded them grimly. Lovino didn't know how long he had been outside the door and how much he had heard but frankly he didn't care because out of the corner of his eye he noticed how Antonio had turned away to run his shaking hands through his hair. "There's really no time for any of this. If I am here you should be ready; that was the plan. Scipio says the boy is ready Master Vargas, and Antonio we need to be off to intercept Mathias. We cannot wait any longer."

Antonio didn't acknowledge the other man and Lovino was left to swallow against the lump in his throat, his heart pounding in his chest. "...Yes. We will be through in a minute. Thank you, Ludwig."

Thankfully Ludwig was not as obtuse as Feliciano and took the hint readily. He left quickly, shutting the door shut behind him with no more than a fleeting concerned look at the pair. Lovino stayed still, staring at it for the plain wood for a second and half afraid to turn around. Everything felt different now, strange. He was aware of the other man more than ever now; but never before had he been so uncertain. Antonio had never got mad at him before and Lovino could not tell if he was ashamed or angry that he had been the cause of so much frustration. He could have dwelt on the matter forever, but there wasn't enough time to get his head in order, not with everyone waiting for him in the other room.

He took a deep breath and twisted on his heel to find the jacket he had been searching for clutched in Antonio's hand like an offering. The other man wasn't looking at him but at least it was a start, it wasn't holding him back in any case...

Lovino took it wordlessly and thrust it on, moving onto the quickly offered shoes which didn't quite fit properly. _He hoped he wouldn't have to do any running_. Garment by garment, Antonio passed him each piece of clothing that was left and Lovino threw them on, ignoring their smell and texture. They performed this routine in silence and without meeting one another's eyes, which was surprisingly difficult. Lovino didn't like arguing and having the lingering tension so soon before he threw himself into one of the most reckless decisions he had ever made was unsettling. He knew that what we was doing was right, be he also knew that Antonio was partly correct too: he could really hurt himself with this plan. What the bodyguard had said wasn't intended to harm or hurt him, it was the vocalisation of the stress that must have been building in the other man for a long time. Lovino understood this, but he also knew that Antonio just didn't quite grasp how important this was, for them all.

But that look of Antonio's face would haunt Lovino if he let it.

"Hey, 'Toni-" The nickname passed his lips seamlessly and he was halfway through the next few words before he registered that such a word had even left his mouth. "I know you don't like it-"

He was stopped by a hand on his head. He flinched and went stiff at the contact, but Antonio didn't hit him, he merely left his palm balanced there gently while looking down at him. In the passing of clothes they had become closer again and Lovino could see every detail of his face. His features were unreadable, but his eyes were deeply troubled. They stayed like that, Lovino's breath catching in his throat as Antonio's other hand also trailed up to his face- _what on earth-?_

But the moment was ruined when the Spaniard scrubbed at his scalp like he was rubbing in shampoo, and not too gently either. Lovino pushed him off immediately with a screech of '_what the hell!?_', his hair dishevelled. Antonio had the audacity to smirk at him before shoving a dusty working man's cap on top of the new birds nest, and forcing it low so that Lovino was blinded for a moment.

"No poor man would have immaculate locks like that." Antonio smiled as Lovino fumbled to remove the head ware from his eyes. "And they wouldn't be so clean either."

Lovino didn't know where he had got it from but the next second Antonio was practically jabbing him in the eye with a dirty cloth that smelt distinctly of shoe polish. He got a good smattering of the stuff all over his cheeks and around his ears, the used rag getting at him everywhere from his forehead to his neck to complete the look. It didn't mean he had to enjoy it though, and Lovino coughed and spluttered and swiped the thing away from him, only to be enveloped the next second in a large armed hold that made the breath leave his body.

Lovino was more surprised at the suddenness of the action rather than the action itself, however it did leave his mind a stuttering, confused mess. Antonio was _actually_ hugging him, bringing him closer than Lovino had been since the night of Roderich's death. He was pulled in to the other man's chest with Antonio's cheek against his ear, so closely he could hear every breath his bodyguard let out.

Lovino wasn't really sure what to do; he very rarely ever _touched_ other people willingly. His grandfather's embraces were intense but he turned them out of politeness and without feeling. It had almost become common practice for him to reluctantly return Feliciano's hugs because he just didn't enjoy the close contact, whether the giver was his brother or not. He was lucky he could push Feliciano away easily if it became too much, as it would be laughed off as Lovino being his usual antisocial self without being offensive. With Antonio closer than he'd ever been, his body was frozen to the spot with uncertainty, his heard pounding in his ears as the warmth of the other man leaked into his chest. _Should he let him have his moment? Push him away? Or was the lack of tension in his bones a sign he actually enjoyed the contact?_

"Please be careful." Antonio whispered softly, seemingly without sensing Lovino's inwards indecision. The fragile wall crumbled a little from around his heart at his words, and Lovino instantly regretted getting so mad at him. He didn't deserve his anger when he was the only one outside the family to ever show any interest in him as a person. As if on command his arms started to work again, moving to loosely return the hold the best they could without wanting to back away. Lovino wasn't quite sure what to say, or whether he even had words for the emotions rushing through him at that time, but he needed to try.

"I'm sorry." He responded, feeling a little odd not talking to his face but the empty room he could see over the Spaniard's back. He wanted to thank the other man for letting him do what he needed to, but that felt wrong after the argument they'd just had so he left that out. "I can't promise anything, but I will try my best. In an hour this will all be over. If it helps, I don't plan to do anything this stupid again."

Antonio's chuckle was like a rumble that sent a vibration through Lovino's whole body. He didn't move away as he thought he would, but rather the Spaniard kept him tucked under his arms so that Lovino could feel the way their hearts were both beating frantically in their chests.

"I certainly hope not." Antonio commented with a forced lightness that made his voice sound false, even to Lovino's ears. The guilt ate away at Lovino even more, but before he could dwell on Antonio was letting him go with one final squeeze, a sad smile marring his usual cheerful features. "Come on, they're waiting for us."

oOo

**Whooo, an actual update on time!  
>Sorry for cutting it short thouh. This chapter originally had all of the plan in it but I thought it would be too overwhelming all at once (and actually massive), so see this as part one. <strong>  
><strong>The rest will be in chapter 40 where we see what happens and how the rest of the plan is panned out.<strong>  
><strong>If anyone wants to ask what the hell is going onit doesn't make sense let me know!**

**Feel free to leave a review if you enjoyed it :) see you next update!**


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